Keeping My Promise
by JasperIsAManlyMan
Summary: What if Victoria came back in New Moon and chased Bella all the way to New York City? How far would Bella go to keep her promise to stay alive? Completed!
1. Chapter 1

Keeping My Promise

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or it's characters. Stephenie Meyer does.

Begins during New Moon while Bella is wandering through the woods, trying to follow Edward.

It was very dark now. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, much less where I was going. But I kept walking. I _had_ to keep walking; _had_ to keep looking for him. Because if I stopped, it would mean that I was giving up. Giving in. It would mean that I had accepted what had happened, and _that_ was impossible. Can you be _resigned _to the fact that your heart had been ripped out? I didn't know, and I didn't plan on finding out, either.

My train of thought was interrupted by a soft rustle of leaves to my right. It was a localized sound, not like the sound of the wind in the trees. My heart started to speed up. I spun to face the sound, almost falling over in my haste. My weak, human eyes searched the dark pointlessly. I saw nothing, but that didn't mean anything. I could _feel_ someone watching me. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. Adrenaline fizzed through me like a static charge, making my fingertips tingle.

"Who's there?" I whispered, still staring in the direction of the noise. "Edward?" I asked, without any real hope; Edward would not be hiding from me.

There was a high-pitched, girlish giggle, this time from behind me. I whirled around, not quite sure which way I was facing now. I sorted through the possibilities of whose laugh I had heard. The only person I knew with a voice that high was Alice.

"Alice?" I called out uncertainly. "Is that you?" If it was, I thought, then why was she scaring me like this. It was silent for a moment, then the same high voice said to my left now.

"No. But, by all means, guess again." I turned on the spot, searching for the speaker. It was not Alice's voice, but it was far too perfect, too beautiful, to be a humans'. And if there was a vampire other than one of the Cullens near me,well, the word "bad" did not even _begin_ to describe the situation.

The voice continued, from behind me again, "After all, you know what they say." I stood completely still; my frantic breathing filling the silence like I was breathing into a microphone. _How am_ _I supposed to get out of this one?_, I thought, There was no one here to protect me now.

Then there was a cold breeze on the right side of my neck as the next words were spoken directly into my ear. "Third time's a charm."

I screamed like a banshee and tried to throw myself away from the vampire, whoever it was. I was, of course, unsuccessful. An icy hand grabbed my upper arm and threw me, none too gently, up against something hard and wet. I couldn't see what it was in the darkness, but from the scrapes on my hands I figured it was a tree.

However, the issue of what I had been thrown against ceased to be important when a rock-hard hand came down over my windpipe, pinning me to the tree like I had once pinned bugs to a piece of cardboard for a seventh grade science project. Choking me. Killing me. And I forgot that any struggling would have been futile. I forgot the vast difference between the strength of a vampire and the strength of a human. Survival instinct took over, banishing all thoughts from my mind except one. Survive. Do anything you have to. Fight. My fingers clawed at the hand that had me around the neck, though it was like trying to claw through granite. And it was just as effective. My body started to run out of oxygen, my head started to swim, and I got tunnel vision. My mind wandered.

I wondered who it was that was killing me. I wondered why I cared. He or she was killing me, and that was all that mattered. And then it struck me. _Why was I fighting?_ Did I even _want_ to live if it meant living without Edward? No. So I stopped fighting. I embraced the knowledge of my imminent death. My vision went dark...And then the pressure eased enough that I could suck in a lung-full of air. And another. And another. Wracking coughs started to shake me, but I could breathe. I was breathing. The vampire hadn't killed me. _Why? _I thought dazedly. I gazed up at the shadowy face of the vampire who had let me live – for now- and blurted out the first thing that came into my mind.

"Who _are_ you?" I rasped. The vampire laughed coldly, and as she -at least, I _thought_ it was a she- laughed, a chink of moonlight fell on her face, glinting silver on her red hair. I could see her face now, and I wished fervently that it was still hidden. The sight of it stopped my heart and made my stomach drop.

It was Victoria.


	2. Threat

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer still does.

Victoria talked to me while I gaped at her, shocked and terrified. 

"Now, Bella, I really am _so_ disappointed." She put on a fake, teasing pout. "You didn't recognize me. And after everything that's happened, too." She sighed, mock offended. "I'm wounded, Bella."

As she had spoken, I had gathered some measure of self-control. Not that it mattered. Victoria could hear my racing heart too well for it to fool her. Since I couldn't trick her into thinking I wasn't afraid, I used the self-control to ask a question instead. The question that had been raging inside my head ever since Victoria had let me live. 

"Why?" I rasped. Victoria knew what I meant, but she played stupid just to taunt me. 

"Why what, Bella?" she asked innocently. Considering the fact she had almost killed me, and was now talking down to me, I was not in the best of moods. 

"_You _know_ what!_" I snarled, my anger making me brave. Victoria raised her eyebrows coolly, her face hardening. She tightened her hand around my neck again, not hard enough to cut off my air supply, but hard enough to remind me of who was in control, and hard enough to show me that I was not in the position to make demands. 

"Be _polite,_" she said, "and maybe I'll talk to you." She eased the pressure on my throat. 

I sat in stony silence, waiting. I guessed that she would tell me anyway. She would want to gloat. 

I turned out to be right. "So," Victoria began, "you want to know why I didn't just kill you and be done with it." She grinned ferally and I shuddered at the expression. "Well," she continued, " that's because I'm not quite through with you, Bella." Her grin widened, showed too many teeth. My pulse quickened, my heart beating against my rib cage like a bird beating its wings against the bars of a cage. I wondered franticly about what she had in store for me. Dismemberment? Disembowelment? I shuddered again. 

During the months after James had attacked me, I had thought that the danger had been behind me. Now, Victoria was here, saying that the game had not been over after all, that those calm months had just been half time. Temporarily absorbed in my thoughts, I whispered, "I thought it was over." Then I froze, cursing my stupidity. _Vampire hearing!_ A section of my mind screamed at me. 

Victoria's eyes locked with mine, hers narrowed with suspicion, mine wide with fear. 

"Thought what was over?" she asked harshly. I tried to make my mouth frame an answer, but failed. She shook me. Hard. "You thought _what_ was over?" She was yelling now. The look on her face made it clear that if I didn't tell her something, the punishment would be severe. 

"_This_," I whispered. "The...hunt. For me, I mean." I was babbling, still afraid of that murderous expression. "James is dead, so-" I couldn't finish my sentence because Victoria's hand was crushing my wind pipe. 

" HOW DARE YOU!", she screamed, then continued, a little quieter, but still just as fiercely. "How dare you even say his name. Did your Edward care that James was _my_ mate? Did he even _care_ who he was killing?" She let me breathe again, and while I did, she whispered, "I came back for a fair exchange. Mate for mate. But since Edward's regard for you has ceased," she smiled cruelly when I winced, "I'm _still_ going to have my fun. No. I'm not going to kill you. Yet. Like I said, I'm not through with you." 

My next door neighbor in Phoenix had had a cat. I could picture it with a mouse it had caught but not killed. I remembered it batting the poor mouse between its paws. Playing with its food. 

"So," I whispered, scared out of my wits, "What are you going to do?" Victoria chuckled darkly and started to say something, but then she whipped her head around to the right, listening. She growled softly. She faced me again and leaned closer, until I could count her eyelashes and see the clear sheen of venom on her teeth. 

"Let's just say this, Bella," she murmured menacingly, "You will wish for death _long_ before I actually kill you." Then, before I could process her words, she let go of my neck, dropped me onto the damp forest floor, and vanished.


	3. Comprehension

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does.

I don't know how long I sat there on the ground, unmoving. I was in shock. After about five minutes, though, I heard what had made Victoria leave so abruptly. Several voices, all of them worried, were calling my name. The voices were faint, and faded quickly. But they still snapped me out of whatever trance I had been in.

I started to think, though I was still a little dazed. I had to figure out what the heck I was going to do. If there was ever a time for a plan, then this was it. I started by laying out what I knew. It wasn't easy; I was still terrified and still incredibly sad. But I needed to do _something_, and in order to do that I had to think. So. First of all, Victoria was back. Second, she was out for my blood, and I was on my own. Third, she only wanted to kill me after I _wanted _to die first, which meant that she had something _very_ nasty up her sleeve. Fourth, if Victoria was closing in on _me_, then Charlie was also at risk. I would have to find a way to protect him.

_How_ I was going to protect him was another matter entirely. But Charlie was my first priority, so I put all thoughts of myself out of my head and started thinking of ways to get Charlie out of Forks. I couldn't tell him that someone was after me, and that he might be in danger, too. No, Charlie would probably involve the police, and that would just put even more people in danger. Besides, Charlie would ask questions that I couldn't answer if I wanted to stay out of an insane asylum.

But thinking of insane asylums made me think about Alice, and thinking about Alice made me think about _him_. I couldn't think about them right now, not when I desperately needed to be able to think clearly. I thumped my head against the tree I was leaning up against, letting the physical pain draw my attention away from the emotional pain, and distracted myself further by thinking of more ways to get Charlie out of town. _Hmm..._ I thought, _Maybe Billy will help me kidnap him..._

My thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. My head snapped up in time to see a tall, dark-skinned man walking through the trees about ten yards away from me. He was holding a lantern and looked extremely worried. The fear on his face made me think about how frightened Charlie must have been for me; I had been in the woods for five hours, at least. Charlie was no doubt worried sick about me, and I didn't want that; Charlie was one of the few reasons I had for living.

So I called out to the strange man, who looked like he might have been from the Quileute reservation. He whirled around at the sound of my voice, his eyes took in my disheveled state as he ran toward me. But when he was about five feet away from me, he stopped like he had hit a brick wall. His face went an odd green color, his nostrils flared like he was smelling something, and his hands started to shake. I would have asked him what was wrong, but I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was _exhausted. _I was, quite literally, too tired to move, speak, or even think. The man said a few things -the only thing I remembered was his name, Sam Uley- but when I didn't respond, he figured that I was out for the count and picked me up. He was warm, and the rhythm of his steps was so soothing that I fell asleep.

I had a dream. I was running through my front yard, my back to my house, and I was terrified. I knew that something bad was happening at my house, but I didn't know what. I also knew that I was running for help. I ran to the last place I would ever want to go if I had been awake. I ran to the path where Edward had told me that he was leaving. When I reached it, I saw that I was not alone. Edward was there. I tried to plead for help, bit this was one of the dreams in which you can't speak. So I gestured toward my house, motioning for him to come with me. He didn't move, didn't even blink. My movements became more frantic, I even tried to pull Edward along, for all the good it did. His face remained totally expressionless. I heard a loud laugh behind me, but before I could turn around, I woke up.

I was in my room. Disoriented -wasn't I in the woods a few minutes ago?- I sat up and noticed that my room was filled with smoke and lit by a flickering, orange light. I gasped, then promptly started coughing from inhaling the smoke. I staggered out of bed, still coughing, and ran to Charlie's room across the hall.

The door was already open. Apparently the fire had started there, I remember being surprised that Charlie was still in bed. Ignoring the spreading flames, I grabbed Charlie's shoulders and shook him, trying to wake him up. "Dad!" I shouted between coughs, "Dad, there's a fire, you have to get up!" Charlie's head lolled to the side, and I jumped back, horrified, looking at the mark on his throat. A mark like the one on my palm where James had bitten me. Charlie's eyes were wide and glassy. With shaking hands, I felt his wrist for a pulse, and came up empty. "No," I whispered, trying to deny the truth. My dad was dead.

Before I could think about it, someone grabbed me around the waist and started dragging me down the stairs. I struggled futilely; I didn't want to leave Charlie. "DAD!" I screamed.

"He's gone," my rescuer shouted back at me. "You can't do anything now, he's gone!" That voice was vaguely familiar. It was as we ran through the living room – or, rather, as he dragged me through the living room - that I saw it. The large, red _V_ painted on the living room wall in what I wished was paint but knew was blood.

Then we were outside. The man who had gotten me out of the house gripped me by the shoulders and spun me around to face him. I realized, with as much shock as my numb mind was capable of, that he was Sam Uley.

"Are you alright?" he demanded. I didn't answer. My mind was still on that red _V_. _V_ for vendetta. _V_ for Victoria. I remembered her parting words: _You will wish for death long before I actually kill you._ She had killed Charlie. I was beginning to understand her threat now. It looked like she was going to kill the people I cared about. The people I loved. _This_, I realized, _is one type of torture that I can never be ready for._ The thought of the coming horror knocked me to my knees. Sam was speaking, but his words were just a hum. _She is going to kill my family_, a voice screamed in my mind. The thought pushed me over the edge, and I started to sob. And pretty soon I was screaming with that voice.


	4. Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does.

Sam did his best to console me. He really tried. It just didn't work. I curled up into the smallest ball possible – as if that would protect me from reality – and cried. Meanwhile, fire consumed the house. The wood made sick hissing and popping sounds as it burned. Smoke stung my eyes. And the worst part was that the only thing I could do was watch helplessly.

Two police cars pulled up. Deputy Steve got out of one and Deputy Mark got out of the other. Their hair was sleep tousled, and their clothes were rumpled, as if they had put them on in great haste. Deputy Steve's face went went white when he saw my burning house, then went, if possible, even whiter when he saw that Sam and I were alone on the lawn. He ran up to us while Deputy Mark radioed the nearest fire station.

"Where's Charlie?" Deputy Steve had to shout to be heard over the roar of the flames, which had spread to the lower story be then. "_Where is he?!_"

I had stopped sobbing. I just sat on the ground with my knees drawn up to my chest, crying silently. I didn't hear Sam as he told Deputy Steve what had happened. I just stared sightlessly at the ground. I felt something drape over my shoulders. I looked up into Deputy Steve's tear-stained face. The deputy was kneeling beside me, and didn't have a coat on. I realized that he had taken it off and given it to me. Suddenly freezing, I slid my arms into the sleeves and wrapped the warm coat around myself.

"I'm so sorry," Deputy Steve said softly. There was a catch in his voice. I felt fresh tears coming, and a lump appeared in my throat. I couldn't speak, so I nodded wordlessly and turned my eyes back to the ground.

Thunder clapped overhead. Everyone looked up to see storm clouds churning. _Good,_ I thought, my thoughts sluggish with grief. _Maybe the rain will put the fire out before it destroys everything. Maybe I can salvage something._ As if in defiance of my thoughts, the burning house groaned, calling to mind an old woman complaining about aching bones, then, with a horrible cracking sound, the second story buckled and fell in on its self, groaning the entire way down. The fiery masses of wood threw up and enormous cloud of sparks when it hit the ground with a crash that hurt my ears.

Then the sky opened, drenching us all within a few seconds and putting out what remained of the house in about ten minutes. We didn't even try to get out of the rain. We could have taken shelter in the squad cars, but none of us had the energy to move.

Paramedics and firefighters showed up. The firefighters started combing the shell of the house, looking for the cause. A paramedic examined me, and gave me a clean bill of health. Sam covered my eyes when they placed Charlie's blackened remains in a body bag.

Deputy Steve helped me into his cruiser, and drove me to the station. I sat silent and broken for the whole drive. When we arrived, he led me to a plain room with a table and chairs in it. He told me to sit down, and that he would be back soon. I obeyed, pulling out one of the metal chairs and sitting. When he came back, he looked very uncomfortable, but I didn't have enough spare emotion to care.

"Alright, Bella," he began, "You know I have to ask you a few questions, right?" I nodded numbly. There was a short silence. "Could you tell me what happened?" Deputy Steve prodded gently. I took a deep, shaky breath.

"I was asleep." My voice was a raspy whisper. "I woke up, and the room was full of smoke." Remembering what had happened made the tears start again. I let them flow. " I ran to Charlie's room to see if he was out of the house yet. I thought he was still sleeping." Hysteria started to rise in my tone. "I tried to wake him up. I tried, but he wouldn't wake up. Then Sam came, and got me out." I couldn't tell them that Charlie had been murdered by a vampire. They would have had me committed before I could say "No, really, I'm serious!"

Deputy Steve cleared his throat. I noticed how nervous he looked. Small beads of sweat started to form on his forehead. "Did you go into Charlie's room before the fire started?" he asked.

I frowned. "No. Why?" I didn't like the look on his face.

Deputy Steve cleared his throat again. "Well, um, you see, we have to consider every possibility, and, well, at this point, everyone is a suspect, so I have to -"

"Wait a minute!" I cried, standing up so fast that I knocked my chair over. "You think _I_ did it?! You think _I_ killed Charlie?" My thoughts whirled in useless circles. Me, kill Charlie? Was Victoria trying to frame me? If she was, then I was convicted for sure. She would have taken every step to prove my guilt.

Deputy Steve fidgeted. "Like I said, we have to consider-" The phone rang cutting him off. He answered it. "Hello?" He paused as the person on the other end spoke. He frowned slightly. "Well? What did they find?" He listened again, then started to blush. "Oh." The person on the other end said something else. Deputy Steve's blush deepened. "Yeah, I just started talking to her." There was another pause. "Okay. Yes sir." Deputy Steve hung up, then turned back to me. He couldn't look me in the eye, he was so embarrassed. "The fire investigators just finished up at your house. The fire was caused by an electrical short," he said. The next words were rushed with humiliation. "Look, I'm sorry about-"

"It's okay," I interrupted. "I understand." Even though I didn't. "It's your job."

Deputy Steve nodded, his eyes still on the ground, and walked out. I picked the chair back up, sat down, and put my head in my hands. Finally alone again, I started to cry quietly. So Victoria _had_ been very thorough, but she hadn't tried to put me in jail. _Of course not_, I thought wearily. _It would be harder for her to reach me if I was in jail. Not impossible, but certainly harder. And she wouldn't be finished with me that quickly_.

I heard the door open and close. My head snapped up, and I saw that Deputy Steve was back. I sat up quickly, wiping my eyes and trying to pull myself together. I noticed that Deputy Steve had an evidence folder in his hands.

"These were found at the house," he mumbled, handing me the folder. "I don't know how they survived, but..." he trailed off, then turned abruptly, and left the room. I remembered, with a sudden rush of sympathy toward Deputy Steve, that I had not just lost my father, but he had lost a friend, too.

I opened the folder, and dumped it's contents out on the table. I froze when I saw what was laying on the table's surface. It was two pictures. One was the picture of Charlie, Renee, and me when I was a baby. The other was of Edward. It was the picture I had taken on the night of my eighteenth birthday party. I studied it closely. Edward's eyes were warm, his smile sincere. It was the last time I had ever seen him like that. I hugged the pictures to my chest, and felt an unfamiliar blossom of hope. It was as fragile as glass, but it was still hope.


	5. The Last Straw

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. I still do not own Twilight. The enviable Stephenie Meyer does.

The funeral was three days after the fire. Charlie barely had enough money saved up to pay for a cheap coffin and a simple headstone. The official cause of death was smoke inhalation. But – as the coroner told me privately – the state of his body made it hard to be sure. The memorial service featured a closed casket, since there wasn't much left to show.

During those three days, I stayed with Angela and her family. She lent me some clothes – though they were too big – until I could withdraw money from my college fund to buy new ones. Angela held me when I cried, and comforted me when I dreamed about the fire. Angela was my rock, she was one of the only reasons that I didn't go mad in those three days. Renee and Phil had wanted to come to the funeral, but had been unable to find a flight to Seattle on such short notice. I didn't mind. The last place on earth I wanted Renee and Phil was Forks.

I was getting dressed for the funeral – I had bought a simple black dress the day before – when Mrs. Webber knocked on the door of Angela's room. "Can I come in?" she called.

I quickly wriggled into my dress, and, when I had it on, Angela called back, "Yeah."

Mrs. Webber opened the door and walked in. She was tall, like Angela, and had the same kind brown eyes. "Hey, Ang," she said. "Can I talk to Bella for a minute?" Angela nodded, smiled at me, and left me alone with her mother. I started to brush my hair as Mrs. Webber spoke.

"I have good news," Mrs. Webber told me. "Yesterday, your mother found two spots on a plane to Seattle."

I froze. The brush slipped from between my numb fingers. "What?" I whispered.

Mrs. Webber nodded, frowning slightly. "Yes. She and Phil are on their way now." Her frown deepened. She sighed. "Bella, I have to ask," she began, "Is your mother always so..." she paused, looking for the right word. "Forgetful?"

Despite my horror, my lips twitched upward. "Yes," I answered. "Why?"

Mrs. Webber shook her head indulgently. "Well, because Renee just now called and told me that she was coming."

"Where did she call you from?" If I she had called from the plane, I would have driven to the airport and shoved Renee and Phil back on to a plane heading to Jacksonville.

Mrs. Webber looked at me, puzzled by my curiosity. "She called from the road. They arrived in Port Angeles a little while ago and rented a car – Bella?"

I had jumped off of the bed and bolted for the stairs, trying not to trip as I ran. _Renee is close. Too close._ I thought. _If Victoria doesn't already know Renee's here, then it won't take her long to find out. I have to move fast._ I blew past Angela, her little brothers, and her father, and made for the front door.

"Bella!" Mrs. Webber shouted, chasing after me. "Bella, what's wrong?!"

I didn't answer. I was already out the door, and on the driveway. I started my truck, pulled out of the driveway, and, once I was on the road, started driving as fast as I could. Which. Was not. Very. Fast. The truck could only manage to go sixty miles an hour. I turned onto the highway that led to Port Angeles – the road that Renee and Phil had taken.

Then I screamed. I slammed both feet down on the brake pedal. They screeched loudly, in harmony with my screaming.

A car was wrapped around a tree on the side of the road. And it was burning.

I hastily put the truck in park, then ran toward the car, ignoring the flash backs that the flames gave me._ Please, don't let it be them, please, don't let it be them,_ I prayed. But a part of me knew it was. Still, a different part of me had to confirm the worst. So I got as close to the car as I could without getting singed, and looked in the window.

Phil was slumped over the steering wheel. The windshield was cracked and bloody where his head had slammed into it. He hadn't been wearing his seatbelt. Renee _had_ been buckled up, but there was a distinctive mark across her throat. A mark that I was becoming quite familiar with. Her eyes stared back at me, wide and glassy. I swallowed hard, keeping the tears at bay. I put my hand through the open passenger side window, and gently closed my mother's eyes. "I'm sorry," I told her in a whisper.

Then I turned and walked into the forest. With each step, my rage built, like a tsunami that grows taller and taller until it slams into a beach with devastating force. My head throbbed, and my fists were clenched so tightly that they began to tremble. I started to run.

About one hundred yards into the woods, I stopped, planting my feet. I drew in a deep breath, and screamed. "VICTORIA!" I screamed so loudly that I had to hunch over just to be able to do it. My voice bounced off the trees, echoing my war-cry. I knew that she was still nearby. She wanted to see me vulnerable. After all, without my pain, the game had no point. "Victoria!" I shouted again, glaring into the woods.

"Good morning, Bella," said a sugary voice behind me. I didn't think about what I did. I spun around and slapped Victoria, as hard as I could, across her face. She could have stopped me, but she was too shocked. No human had _ever_ slapped her before. The slap made a satisfying _crack_, but the only thing it hurt was my hand. While she stared at me, I called her a rude name, and spat in her face. _That_ got her attention. She slapped me back, gently for her, but still hard enough to knock me flat on my back. I scrambled to my feet.

"You killed them," I hissed at her, shaking with a fury and a grief that made me brave. And reckless.

Victoria's jaw was clenched, and her eyes were like crimson ice. "Yes," she growled, "I killed them. And I enjoyed every minute of it."

"They weren't a part of this!" I cried. "Why couldn't you have just left it that way?"

"You want to protect the innocent?" her voice had a new, calculating edge. "Then I'll make you a deal. Leave Forks. Or, if you want to be generous, leave the whole state of Washington. Leave, and I'll leave the stupid humans here alone."

My eyes narrowed. "And you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" I laughed derisively. "Yeah, right. You wouldn't save your own mother if there wasn't anything in it for you."

Victoria laughed, too, but her laugh had a warning note in it. "Oh my! You _are_ smarter than you look! Honestly? I want to relocate because the werewolves are making it difficult to get near you."

There was a short silence. _Werewolves? _I thought, _What did I ever do to end up in the Twilight Zone?_ Out loud, I said, in a frosty voice, "I think there might be a side affect to vampire venom that no one told me about. Like insanity."

Victoria laughed again, and her voice matched mine for coldness. "You have a witty tongue. Maybe I'll cut it out." She smiled a razor's edge of a smile. "Believe me or not, if you want to avoid a blood bath here, you'll leave Forks." And, with that, she left. I heard an explosion behind me. The fire in Renee and Phil's rental car had reached the gas tank.

I staggered back to my truck, and started driving to La Push to tell Billy that I was leaving. And to warn him.

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. Teachers have a sixth sense: they instinctively know when to give students the most homework. Does anybody want to guess what happens?**


	6. I'm Leaving On a Jet Plane

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight. Everything, sadly, belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

I pulled into the Black's driveway, in front of the little red house. The black Ford they borrowed was in the driveway, so I knew they were home. I turned off the truck, and ran up the front steps, tripping over the last one.

I rapped sharply on the door three times and waited about ten seconds. Then I balled my hand into a fist and banged continuously on the door as hard as I could. Normally, I wasn't impatient or rude, but I could hardly afford to be nice.

Billy threw the door open in mid knock; I almost hit him in the face. He was dressed in a nice button-down shirt, and slacks for Charlie's funeral. I realized, with a jolt, that I would have to miss it. Billy's broad face changed from irritation to shock to confusion.

"Bella?" his voice was incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

I shoved past him, and started walking down the short hall to the living room.

"I need to talk to you," I called brusquely over my shoulder. Billy's wheelchair creaked as he wheeled himself after me. I stomped into the small living room, then stopped, surprised to see Sam Uley sitting on the couch, looking worried.

Billy came into the room after me. He glanced from me to Sam, then said, "Bella, now isn't really a good time. Maybe you could come back in an hour or so -"

"Now is a _perfect_ time." I growled, spinning to face Sam. "Do you believe the legends about the Cullens?" I demanded.

Sam's face grew wary. He turned to Billy, asking a question with his eyes. Billy nodded slightly, and Sam turned back to me. "Yes," he said. "I believe them."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Can you be trusted?" I asked.

Sam frowned at me. "Yes."

This time, I was the one to turn to Billy, raising my eyebrows in a silent question.

Bill nodded solemnly. "Sam knows how to keep his mouth shut," he assured me.

I nodded briskly. "Good," I prepared to launch into my story, but remembered that a person lived in the Black house who did _not_ believe the legends. "Is Jacob here?" I asked. Billy shook his head, waiting. I took a deep breath and took the plunge. I told them everything, starting with how the Cullens and I first met James and his coven. Billy blanched when I recounted my first conversation with Victoria. When I reached the part of Renee and Phil's recent death, I paused, tearing up. I quickly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and described the scene.

Billy was thoughtful for a moment, then said softly, "Bella, you can't know for sure that Victoria killed them. They might have just lost control of the car and -"

"It wasn't an accident," my voice was a broken mumble. "Renee had a mark..." A sob burst from my chest as I – unable to speak – gestured to my throat. Billy's shoulders slumped, and he covered his face with a shaking hand.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," he moaned. "So, so sorry."

I continued softly. "I followed Victoria into the woods,"

"You _what?!_" That was San Uley. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets. I ignored him and kept going.

"Victoria made me a deal. She promised that if I leave Forks, she won't hurt anyone else here." I steeled myself for the stream of opposition that was sure to come with my next statement. "And I've decided to take the deal. I'm going to leave."

There was dead silence for a moment, then Billy said, in a very flat voice, "Oh, no you're not."

I shook my head. "I am. I came up here to tell you why." Suddenly, I wanted to test the piece of information Victoria had given me about the werewolves. "And to warn the pack. I'm not quite sure that Victoria will uphold her end of the bargain."

I watched their eyes widen. "The... the pack," Sam whispered, stunned. "How did you know about that?"

I blinked twice. It was _true_. There were werewolves! "I didn't," I replied. "Victoria said something about it, but I didn't believe it." I sat down an the floor, hard. "Oh, my," my voice was a little high and shaky. I had expected Billy and Sam to give me strange looks, and ask me what I was talking about. No such luck.

I shook my head, putting thoughts about werewolves out of my mind, and got up. I started walking down the hall to the door, but I didn't get very far. Sam caught up to me, and grabbed my wrist. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I told you," I replied. "I'm leaving."

"But you don't _ need_ to," Sam insisted. "Now that we know what the female is after, we can protect you."

I couldn't waste time; I had to get the heck _out_ of there. So I hit below the belt. _Way_ below. "Like you protected Charlie?" I asked in a whisper. Sam dropped my wrist like it burned. "I'm sorry," I told him, "but I have to go." I slipped out the door, and into my truck.

First, I stopped at the Webber's house – no one was home – and packed my clothes, toothbrush and toothpaste, and pictures of Charlie, Renee, and Edward. Next, I went to the Forks bank, and withdrew every cent I had. Then I was off to the airport.

The drive to Seattle was long and silent, except for the roar of the engine. I didn't listen to the radio, didn't hum – even the wind seemed quieter. It made the air feel heavy. I felt fear and pain trying to push their way to the surface now that I was occupied with the mind-numbing task of driving. I shoved them back. _Just wait,_ I told the unpleasant emotions. _Just wait until I'm out of Forks, then you can come. Right now, I really need to be lucid. _

I reached the airport, and approached the front desk, shouldering my way through the crowd. The woman manning the front desk – whose badge proclaimed her to be Natasha Williams – looked up at me as I drew near. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "Could you tell me when the next flight leaves, and where it's going?"

Natasha looked at me oddly, then typed something into her computer. "The next flight leaves in forty-five minutes, and goes to New York City," she told me.

I took a deep breath. This was it. I was about to step forward into the great unknown. My mind made a last attempt to convince me to stay. It brought up Edward's last request, _Don't do anything reckless or stupid._ I would break my promise. But Victoria hadn't really given me a choice. Edward would understand. Besides, he had also told me to take care of myself, and in order to do that, I needed to stay alive. And, though I hated to admit it, my chances of survival were probably better if I left Forks. I looked Natasha Williams in the eye – my resolve strengthened – and said, "I'll take one ticket, please. One-way."


	7. Sweet Dreams

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, it belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

I staggered out of the arrival gate in LaGuardia airport in New York City. My muscles were stiff from the long flight. Randomly, I felt a brief moment of deja vu. It took me a couple of seconds to understand why. Then I realized that this wasn't the first time I had left a place I was happy in and flown across the country to a place I would surely be miserable in. But this time, I was completely alone, and, unlike when I moved to Forks, my future here would be miserable.

I was exhausted – I hadn't slept on the flight, and I hadn't had a good night's sleep since Charlie died – but I forced myself to trudge down the crowded, cavernous, hallway of the airport toward the exit. _I need to find a place to stay,_ I thought sluggishly as I walked. Then I saw a row of computers against one wall, and a sign that read _Internet Access_. I said a silent thanks – the Internet would save me a lot of time and trouble. I walked over to an unoccupied computer, and did a quick search for hotels. After a few minutes, I found a decently priced _Days Inn_. Too tired to look further, I wrote down the address and walked out of the airport.

I hailed a cab and told the driver where I needed to go. I spent the entire drive immersed in a gray haze. I didn't look out the window or anything. When we got to the hotel, I paid the driver and stumbled into the hotel lobby. I paid for a room, then somehow walked down the hall until I found it. It took three tries for me to unlock the room door; the key slot was swimming in my vision. When I finally _did_ get in, I closed the door and made straight for the bed. I flopped down on it, and was asleep before my head hit the pillow. But was it the deep, dreamless sleep that I had hoped for? Of course not. That would have been too easy. Instead, I had a nightmare.

_In it , I was standing in my front yard, back in Forks, watching my house burn down again. This time, Sam Uley was not with me. I stood alone. The fire consumed my tiny house – flames clawed at the black sky. _

_Something moved inside the house, inside the fire. I watched as it walked through what remained of my front door. It was shaped like a man, but it was frail-looking, and it's walk was stiff and lurching. And it was on fire. As it walked slowly toward me, my stunned brain finally put two and two together. If I was in my front yard, and that thing had walked out of my house, then it must have been Charlie. Or what was left of him. Suddenly I was terrified. I wanted to run, but my feet were rooted to the ground. I tried to scream for help, but I couldn't even open my mouth. _

_Burning Charlie came closer, and I could see things that I didn't want to. His flesh was charred and blackened, except for a small patch of skin on his left cheek. That bubbled and hissed as it burned. His lips are completely burned away, so I could see his teeth grinning at me, even though there is nothing funny. The burnt skin had flaked away in some places, leaving only the blackened bone visible. Flames still licked up and down his body, searching for something not already burned. _

_Charlie stopped a few feet away from me. I still couldn't speak, but inside my head, I was screaming bloody murder. Charlie studied me for a moment, or at least that's what it looked like. I couldn't really tell, because his eyelids were seared shut. Then he slowly raised his arm and pointed directly at my face. The burnt skin on his arm and hand crackled and crunched, and some of it fell off. My stomach rolled, and I almost fainted. But Charlie distracted me from his appearance when he spoke. "Your fault." His voice was a raspy gurgle, but the words themselves horrified me more than his voice. Your fault. I found that I was able to scream, and I did scream, as loudly as I could. _

Then I woke up.


	8. Help Wanted

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Never have, never will.

I sat bolt upright in the bed, the scream still tearing out of my throat. I only stopped screaming when I started crying. The dream still lingered in my mind. The smell of burnt flesh; Charlie's distorted voice saying _Your fault_. As if sensing my weakness, every emotion I had suppressed over the last few days rushed to the surface, fighting to finally make themselves known.

I knew that I couldn't hold them back any longer, so I curled into a ball and let them have me. Anguished guilt came first. After all, Charlie, Renee, and Phil had died because of me. Victoria had been the one to actually kill them, but it was still my fault.

Fear came next. What was I going to do? I was alone in New York City, and a revenge-crazed vampire was out for my blood. I didn't have very much money with me, and I didn't have a job. _I might end up on the streets, and God only knows what will happen to me then, _whispered a frightened voice in the back of my head.

Then I had to endure the pain. The pain over the loss of my family, and not just the human one. I buried my face in a pillow to muffle my sobs, which wracked my body with a fierce strength. I – childish as it may seem – wanted my mother. I wanted Renee and her optimistic attitude. But, to my surprise, I wanted Esme and her gentle compassion more. I wanted Alice and Emmett, who had become not only my friends, but also my sister and brother. I wanted Emmett to laugh and say that nothing would get past him, and joke about how the human had gotten herself in trouble again. I missed Alice and her handy ability. I wanted to know what was coming so I could prepare for it. I wished fervently for Carlisle and his calm reasoning. He would know what to do. But, despite how much I wanted my vampire family, they weren't there, and they weren't coming.

And I had to feel the pain over Edward, which was worse than all the other pains combined. The pillow could not silence my wails anymore. I knew why he left; I knew, and I could not blame him. I was just a human. Nothing special. Edward was perfect – beautiful, brilliant, graceful, and good at everything. I was ordinary, clumsy, and couldn't make an _A_ in math to save my life. It was easy to see why he had lost interest, but that didn't make loosing him any easier. In fact, it made it harder. I had wanted desperately to make him happy, and I had failed. It was obvious to see why he hadn't wanted to change me. He hadn't wanted an eternal annoyance, much less an eternal annoyance who was in love with him.

I let myself cry over everything until my eyes ran out of tears. Then I sat up, took in a shaky breath, and thought about what I could do to help my situation. _Okay. I need a job and a place to stay,_ I thought, trying to be practical. _Where can I find those? _My mind came up with several options, including the classified sections in newspapers. _Hotel lobbies have newspapers in them_, I remembered. That was good; I could start my search right here in the hotel.

Then I remembered Victoria. What about Victoria? I was still her prey, and things were sure to go South when she found me again. Would it be wise to try to start again if she was just going to destroy what I managed to rebuild? _It doesn't matter,_ said the stubborn voice in my head. _I'm going to try anyway_. I got up, and was about to go to the lobby when I looked down at myself, and saw my sleep-rumpled clothes. I was sure that my hair was tangled, and that my face was red and tear-stained. _I'd better clean up first,_ I thought. _ Besides, a shower might clear my head. _I was right; the hot water of the shower cut through the fog in my mind like a knife. I got out feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the task of making a life for myself here in this new city.

I got dressed and walked briskly to the lobby. As I'd expected, there was a large pile of several different newspapers. I sat down in one of the comfortable chairs, and started to sort through them. I was able to limit my search somewhat – I only had a high school education, and I hadn't even finished that, since I had fled Forks in the middle of my senior year. After about forty-five minutes I closed the last newspaper and rubbed my eyes, which were tired from reading the small print. I had written several adds down on a piece of paper I had begged from the lady at the hotel's front desk. They were mostly adds for house cleaning, nanny, and waitressing jobs. Few of these appealed to me, but I knew that I was pretty much out of choices. If I had taken a cab every where, I would have run out of money. I knew I had to walk. I went up to the rack of brochures and found a map of New York City, then returned to my seat and decided which routes to take. I decided to start with locations closest to the hotel where I was staying, work my way outward, then take the shortest route back to the hotel.

I got up and left the hotel – my first haven in New York City – at around eleven forty-five A.M., and started walking down the street in the direction indicated on my map. I walked for hours, and bought lunch from one of the many street vendors. When I met with most of the potential employers, I noticed that they were detached and cold, as if they didn't care about anything; not even someone who might work for them. Most of them promised to call me back, but when they spoke to me, they were already doing something else. The one exception was a kind-looking older man named Hal Turner. He owned a bistro named _La Cuisine du Thym_, and needed a waitress. When he talked with me, he listened to what I said and made eye contact. He acted like he cared. When I left his bistro, I thought that I would like to work for him, and hoped that he would give me the job.

I walked to the last businesses on my list after that, but it didn't seem promising. I started the walk back to the hotel and bought dinner at another street vendor. My roaming all over New York City had taken a long time – the sun was setting by the time I made it back to my hotel. I nodded hello to the desk clerk and trudged back to my room. I was tired, and went straight to bed after I had brushed my teeth.

But my sleep was restless, and filled with dreams of fire and endless searching for something – some_one_ – I couldn't find. A phone ringing woke me up. I rolled over and answered the phone before I was fully awake.

"Hello?" I murmured groggily, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Hello. Is this Isabella Swan?" The voice was male and vaguely familiar. I struggled to concentrate.

"Yes. May I ask who's speaking?" I asked, sitting up.

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Hal Turner. We spoke to each other yesterday," he said.

Suddenly I was wide awake. He was calling me back! And we had only talked yesterday. That was either really good, or really bad. "Hi, Mr. Turner!" I cried. "How are you?"

He chuckled. "I'm doing well, thank you. I'm calling about that waitressing job we talked about yesterday. You seem like the kind of person I want at my restaurant, and I'm calling to see if you want the job."

I was shocked into silence for a few seconds, then hastened to say, "Yes! Yes, I would _love_ the job!" I was over the moon; things were going well in the city.

"Excellent!" Mr. Turner said, and he sounded truly pleased. "Could you come back today so we can hammer out the details?"

"Yeah, I can do that," I replied.

"Around one this afternoon?" he asked.

"Yeah, sounds good," I told him.

"Alright. See you then." Mr. Turner seemed so nice. I could tell that I would genuinely enjoy working for him.

"Bye," I said.

"Bye," he replied, then hung up.

I jumped up and danced around my hotel room until I tripped. Then I looked at the clock and, noticing the time, started to get dressed.

Mr. Turner gave me the job, and even helped me find a cheap apartment close to the restaurant. The apartment was in a bad part of the city, didn't have hot water, and was tiny, but I could afford it. I still dreamed about Edward and Charlie, and, at times, I was so miserable that I could hardly get up in the morning, but Mr. Turner helped. He was my only friend in New York City. I worked for him for three months, until the worst thing possible happened. Victoria found me.


	9. Hello Again

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, or it's characters. Stephenie Meyer does. That probably won't change. Ever.

I first knew something was wrong when I walked into Mr. Turner's bistro. Over the months, Mr. Turner and I had formed a morning tradition of sorts. Every morning, when I came in, I would say, "Good morning, Mr. Turner," and Mr. Turner would always reply, "Morning, Bella. Ready to work?"

But that morning, when I greeted him, Mr. Turner didn't answer. Upon looking at him more closely, I noticed that his normally ruddy face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot and tired, and his usually smiling mouth was pressed into an anxious line. This was out of the ordinary; Mr. Turner was always so...happy. I approached him quickly, worried.

"Mr. Turner," I asked, concern evident in my tone, "what's wrong?" Something was _very_ wrong. Apprehension twisted in my stomach.

Mr. Turner didn't answer me directly. Instead, he said, "Lets go to my office for a minute, Bella. I need to talk to you." Even his voice sounded different. Like he was frightened.

I followed without a word. Maybe I already knew what had happened, somewhere in my subconscious, but didn't want to accept it. That would certainly explain why I was so unreasonably anxious. We entered his small office, and I sat down in a chair in front of Mr. Turner's desk. He – to my surprise – closed and locked the door behind us. That only worried me more – Mr. Turner's office door was never closed, and definitely never locked. Whatever he had to tell me, it wasn't good.

Mr. Turner sat down in his chair, propped his elbows up on the desk, and rested his face in his hands. If I had been frightened before, I was downright terrified after he did that. What could make Mr. Turner so downhearted? His voice came out muffled by his hands when he finally spoke.

"Bella, I have to know something." He looked up at me, and his eyes bored into mine. "And I don't want your half answers, or your question avoiding. The truth." The intensity in his eyes reached its peak. "Why did you come to New York?" I looked at him and I saw fierce determination written all over his face. He wasn't going to back down. Not this time. So I told him the truth. Without the vampire part, of course.

"My dad died about three months ago," I told him in a whisper. "And when my mom and stepfather came for the funeral, they...got in a car accident and died, too." I had never been a good liar, so editing out the Cullens and Victoria made my story sound a little rehearsed. But Mr. Turner didn't notice.

"So it didn't have anything to do with the woman I saw last night," he murmured to himself. He wasn't speaking to me, but his words still stopped my heart. _No. It couldn't be,_ I tried to tell myself. But I knew that it very well could be. I had to know for sure.

"What woman?" I asked urgently. "What did she look like?" Mr. Turner looked up at my tone.

"Why?" he demanded. "Do you know a woman who would be here looking for you? Someone who you're afraid of?" There was a flicker of hope in his face. I didn't know why at first, but it would be obvious soon.

I nodded silently. At the moment, I was too scared to speak. I could feel the color leaching from my face. I pushed past the lump in my throat and whispered a question. "What did she look like?" I asked again. If Mr. Turner _had _seen Victoria, then he would remember – nobody forgot a vampire's face.

Mr. Turner started describing her to me. "She had red hair." My heart sank. _Plenty of people in New York have red hair,_ I told myself, trying to keep up my morale. _That doesn't mean it was her. _But I knew it probably was. Mr. Turner continued. "About average height. She looked like she might be in her early twenties." He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "And she was beautiful. Not your everyday beautiful, either. She could have made a model look like a gargoyle." He swallowed, now looking afraid again. "And she had red eyes," he whispered.

There it was. My confirmation. Panic bubbled up in my chest, and my eyes filled with tears. Victoria knew where I was. Mr. Turner wasn't blind, thus he noticed my reaction.

"You know her," he said. It was a statement, not a question. "And I'd be willing to bet that she doesn't like you at all." I almost laughed hysterically. _Doesn't like me? That's the understatement of the _century_, right there, Mr. Turner, _I thought.

"No," I replied. "She doesn't like me." I wanted to run and hide under a rock, for all the good it would do me. But I needed more information. "Did she say anything?" I whispered, blinking back tears.

Mr. Turner gulped. "Oh, she said something all right." He was trying to laugh it off. It wasn't working. I could hear the tremor in his voice. My intuition kicked in. What Victoria had said was the part that scared him the most.

I closed my eyes for a long second, steeling myself. Then I opened them and quietly asked, "What did she say?"

Mr. Turner silently looked at me for a moment. I don't know what he saw on my face, but whatever he saw, it made him drop his bravado. "She said that she knew who I was, and that she knew I had hired you. She said --" He paused to compose himself. "She said that if I didn't fire you, she would kill my family." He locked eyes with me, and I could see the horror in them. "My wife, my son, my grandkids; all of them. She knows where they live, where my grandkids go to school..." He trailed off, then took a deep breath. "I need to know if she'll do it," he said. "Tell me whether or not she'll do it."

The tears I had been keeping at bay spilled over. Mr. Turner deserved the truth, and the truth wasn't pretty. I nodded. "She'll do it." I whispered, and gave him a sad, wobbly smile. "She did it to me." I told him.

Mr. Turner's eyes widened. "Your father and your mother and your stepfather? She killed them? I thought you said your mother and stepfather died in a car crash."

I shook my head and wiped my eyes. "It was staged," I told him.

He ran a shaky hand through his graying hair. "Would going to the police help?"

I jerked straight in the chair like I had been electrocuted. The police? What were they against a vampire? What were they going to do, shoot her? Shoot a bulletproof vampire with a nasty temper? Yeah, _that_ would go over like a lead balloon. "_NO!_" I cried standing up. "No! That will just make things worse!" Mr. Turner stared up at me, shocked. I sat back down and leaned toward him. It was vital for him to understand that getting the police involved would do anything but help. "If you fire me and stay away from me, she might let you all live. But if you go to the police, then there's no doubt about it – she _will _kill you and your family." I may have sounded cruel, but he had to understand.

Mr. Turner rubbed his hand over his eyes. "So I really don't have any choices here, do I?" he muttered.

I started to cry again. I was going to have to stay away from the one friend I had, the one person who had helped me. It was going to be hard, and it was going to be painful, but I would do it to keep him safe. _Another pain to deal with. And this time, no one to help me with it. Great. Absolutely great_, I thought, hoping that sarcasm would keep it from hurting so badly. It didn't. I tried to smile at Mr. Turner. It probably came out as a grimace. "I'm going to miss you, then," I said quietly as I stood up and prepared to leave.

He grabbed my wrist when I turned to walk out the door to his office. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

Mr. Turner looked into my eyes, worry obvious in his own. "Will you be alright? Will I be reading the paper in a couple of days and see your obituary?" He wanted to know if Victoria would kill me.

I turned my gaze to my shoes, and kept it there as I answered honestly. "I don't know." He didn't answer, just pulled me into a tight hug.

"Take care of yourself, girl," Mr. Turner told me. Then I walked out of his bistro and went home. That was the last time I saw Hal Turner.

I walked home to my apartment in the east side of New York City. It wasn't the best neighborhood to live in, but it was all I could afford. _And my landlord will evict me when I can't pay the rent, _said the dark side of my mind.

I climbed the stairs of my building and unlocked my door. I was so absorbed in thinking about what to do now that Victoria had come back, that I didn't see her standing in my apartment until she spoke to me.

"Nice place you have here, Bella," she said. I gasped, jumped about three feet, and nearly swallowed my tongue. I don't know why I was so surprised. I should have been expecting her. She shrugged away from the wall she had been leaning up against. "Howdy," she said with a roguish grin. "It really has been too long." _Not to me! _mymind screamed at her. I couldn't say it out loud, though, as I was scared speechless. Being face to face with your family's killer can do that. Victoria continued, "So, how have you been?" She waited for a response, but if she wanted me to tell her how much I had been hurting these past few months, then she was out of luck. She frowned playfully at me. "Oh, come now, Bella. Do we need to have another talk about manners?"

I was finally able to speak. "What now?" I asked. "Are you going to murder me, then make it look like I killed myself because I lost my job?"

Something about my question amused her. "No, no." she replied, chuckling. "I just now found you! And, if you remember correctly, I told you to leave Forks so that we could _continue_ our little game. No, I haven't quite had enough fun with you yet." The smile hardened, turned cold. "I think I'd like to see you after you've gone without food for two weeks. After you've lived on the streets. I want you to know what it feels like to know that you can't get a job – I want you to run out of hope." Victoria backed off slightly. "Don't bother applying for another job," she told me. "I'll make sure that you don't get it." Then, finished inspiring fear, she moved gracefully toward the door, but paused with her hand on the doorknob. She turned back to look at me as she said her next words. "Oh, and, Bella? Don't try to leave New York City." She grinned a feral grin. "I find that I rather like this playing field." After those chilling words, she slipped soundlessly out the door and down the stairs.

I sat down on the carpet, still staring at the door. The silence rang in my ears, until the sound of my crying broke it. I wrapped my arms around my knees, and wished once again that the Cullens would come. I sat there on the floor for hours, the whole time wondering _What do I do? What do I do?_ I kept repeating it, thinking that if I asked the question enough, I would find the answer. I repeated that question for two months, but I didn't find the answer. After that, I stopped asking. Ironically, it was only _after_ I stopped trying to find a solution that a solution found me.

**A/N: Next chapter, ENTER CULLENS! **


	10. Oh, No

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does, and I don't think she's going to give it up anytime soon.

Alice's Point of View

Apathetic. Life was unquestionably, incredibly, _annoyingly, _apathetic. I was _so_ tired of everyone in my family being sad, myself included. Emmett hadn't cracked a joke in months, which was more than a little out of character for him. Carlisle and Esme hadn't really smiled since we had left Forks. After all, Bella was their daughter in everything but blood. But Bella was Edward's call, so the family couldn't argue – much – when he told us that he wanted us to leave. He'd had very good reasons, and the whole family was still worried about what had happened with Jasper.

And then Edward left too, which had only made things worse. He'd gone off hunting Victoria, and we had barely heard from him since. Not that I could blame him on that account; if anyone hurt Jasper, I would hunt them down, too. But I _could_ be angry with him for leaving Bella. He had made me promise not to look for her future, but I knew her well enough to know that she would be heartbroken, and that she wouldn't heal. Not from that.

And neither would Edward. He tried to feign happiness for a little while for our sakes, but he couldn't. Even when he _was_ trying, we could see right through him. We could see just how hurt he was. And his pain, in turn, hurt us. It had been almost more than I could bear to watch. My brother – who had been so _alive_ with Bella – so dead on the inside. Eventually, he couldn't stand to be around us anymore. We reminded him of _her_ too much. So he'd gone after Victoria, partly to destroy her for hunting Bella in the first place, but also, I think, to distract himself.

My family – minus one of its members – moved to Ithaca, New York, where Carlisle taught nights in the medical school at Cornell University and worked part time in a hospital. Esme was re-modeling a beautiful old house – deep in the woods, just like we liked them. It was that re-modeling job that provided me – in a round-about way – with a reason to do something about the situation, and I had wanted to do something since we had left Forks five months earlier.

It came about so simply. We needed light bulbs for the house, and Esme asked me if I could go get them, as she was busy painting the walls. I was bored, so I went for her. The short shopping trip went normally, but when I was walking out of the store, I passed a board with missing people posters on it. I glanced at it as I went past, and saw a very familiar face. I stopped short, my eyes locked on the picture. _No. No, no, no, no, no!_ My stunned mind repeated as I moved – a little too fast; some humans noticed – toward the board. I ripped the sheet of paper off, then gaped at it, shocked, horrified, and afraid. At first I tried to deny what I saw, but there it was in black and white.

_MISSING PERSON_

_Name: Isabella Marie Swan_

_Age: Eighteen years_

_Height: 5' 4''_

_Weight: 110 pounds_

_Hair: Brown_

_Eyes: Brown_

_Missing since: 9/19/2007_

_Isabella is believed to be in New York City. If you have any _

_information, please call 1-800-749-TIPS. Thank you._

Bella's school picture from junior year was above her information. I studied it with more scrutiny than really necessary. It was her. I started to panic. Bella couldn't avoid trouble in the tiny town of _Forks_. What would happen to her in New York City? I checked the date she had gone missing again and gasped. Six days after her birthday party, and three days after Edward left. My gasp turned into a soft growl. If this had anything to do with Edward's leaving, then I was going to be very mad at Bella once I found her. _If she's still alive,_ a voice in the back of my mind whispered. I shuddered. I didn't want to think about that. Yet I knew that it was a distinct possibility.

I also knew the quickest way to know for sure. I quickly walked out of the store and sat in my car, so no one would notice when I looked for Bella's future. The car's tinted windows kept people from seeing me as I closed my eyes and reached into the murky void of possibilities that is the future. At the last second, I remembered the promise I had made to Edward. _Edward can take the promise and _– the thought was stopped short when I was pulled into a vision.

_It started off like any other vision. At first I was surrounded by black fog. I couldn't see through it. Then the fog evaporated, and I was standing on a street in New York City's East side. Bella was walking down the street, her back hunched in her jacket, trying to ward off the cold February wind._

_ I looked at her face, and immediately noticed how different it seemed since I last saw her. Her eyes were haunted; hungry and afraid. And wary, too, as if she was expecting an attacker to jump out of the shadows. Her face was thinner, as if she had lost weight. She had been slender in Forks; the weight loss made her look unhealthy. Her clothes were a little worn, as if they'd seen hard days. Bella _herself _looked as if she'd seen hard days. Her hair was less glossy than it had been, and she moved with a desolate weariness._

_ A male voice caught her attention and made her turn around. "Hey," the voice said. There was a middle-aged man standing at a nearby street corner. He and Bella were the only people in sight. Bella nodded hello back. "Hey, listen," the man said. "I bought lunch for my brother who lives near here, but he'd already eaten, and I'm not hungry." The man held up a McDonald's bag. "Do you want this?" he asked. I saw the hunger flare up in Bella's eyes, and they locked on the bag. Uneasiness wormed its way into my gut. Don't take it, I told Bella silently. Don't go near him. _

_Bella was starving, but apparently she still had her common sense. She didn't move toward the man, but neither did she move away. She stood, rooted in place, as hunger battled against instinct. The man smiled at her. "Yeah, I know how this must look," he said. "Some random guy offering a girl food. But it's not poisoned, or anything," he promised. "I just don't want to waste it." _

_Don't believe him, I tried to tell Bella. But, as usual, I couldn't speak in my vision. I saw Bella's hunger start to win out over her instinct. I could see it in her eyes, in her posture. Hesitantly – like a frightened deer – Bella walked toward the man, hr eyes fixed on the bag in his out-stretched hand. I watched as she neared him, and reached out to take the paper bag. Then, the man's other hand shot out, curled into a fist, and struck Bella on the side of her face. _

I jerked out of the vision, refusing to watch any more. I jammed the key into the car's ignition, and sped out of the parking lot. I remembered the name of the street I had seen in my vision, and I thought – _thought_ – I knew where it was. I also knew that what I had seen was going to happen soon. Very soon. I pushed the car faster, and started to weave in and out of the traffic. Nothing would happen to Bella. I would make sure of it. While keeping one hand on the wheel, I pulled out my cell phone and took a picture of the Bella's missing person paper, which I had thrown into the passenger seat. I sent it to Carlisle's phone, with a text message that read, _I'm looking._ Then I returned my focus to keeping Bella out of trouble, which was one of my family's familiar pastimes. It was also something that my family took _very_ seriously. I felt sorry for the McDonalds guy. Then I remembered him punching Bella. On second thought, maybe I didn't.

Carlisle's Point of View

I was about half-way through my shift at the hospital, when my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, and flipped it open. _One New Picture Message From: Alice_, the screen read. I opened the message, frowning in confusion. When I saw what Alice had sent me, I nearly dropped my phone. Then I was out of my chair and walking fast down the hall. Bella was missing. Had _been _missing for five months. My stomach dropped. I knew that only a small fraction of missing people who were not found within the first day of going missing were _never _found. Or were found dead. That thought did not help me remain calm. _Alice is looking_, I soothed myself. _And what Alice looks for, she usually finds_. I prayed that this would not be an exception as I drove my Mercedes out of the hospital's faculty parking lot. I was going to go home and tell Esme the news; I had a hunch that Alice had been in to much of a hurry to do so herself.

_Bella_. Bella, who was so _good_. Who had given my son the kind of happiness I had wanted him to have for so long. How had this happened to her? _Because you weren't there to_ keep _it from happening_, a harsh part of my mind answered. I winced. That was too close to being true. I didn't _want_ it to be true. Would _any_ father want to be responsible for his child going missing? And I _did_ think of Bella as my daughter. That tortured me the most. I cared for her, and yet I had left without a word. We all had. What if that had made her do something foolish? _Stop!_ I scolded myself. _You don't know the circumstances under which she went missing. It might not have had anything to do with that. This worrying will not help anything._ But despite what I told myself, I could not keep from worrying. If something had happened to Bella, then it would kill Edward. It would kill a part of everyone in my family.

I turned off the main road, and drove for another fifteen minutes until I reached our new home. I turned the car off and rushed into the house, calling Esme as I went. I dropped my bag onto one of the couches in the living room and, after checking down stairs for Esme and not finding her, started running full-speed up the stairs,where I collided head on with Esme with a very loud _Boom!_ I was moving so fast that I accidentally threw both of backwards until we slammed into a wall.

"Sorry," I grunted as I helped her to her feet. She wasn't hurt; it would have taken a lot more than that to hurt her.

"Carlisle, you're home early." Esme stated. Then she saw the worried expression on my face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" Her face changed, her eyes filled with concern. She reached out and took my hands. "What happened?"

"Not here," I whispered, and silently pulled her into my study and shut the door. It wasn't good protection against vampire eavesdroppers, but it would have to do. I had no idea how to tell her gently, so I just blurted the news out as quietly as I could. "Bella's missing," I breathed into Esme's ear. She gasped, but stayed as quiet as me.

"For how long?" she whispered.

"Five months," I told her.

Her face went, if possible, whiter than it already was. "Just after we left," she whispered, horrified.

I could tell that she was thinking along the same lines that I was – that we were somehow responsible for Bella's disappearance. I wrapped my arms tightly around my wife and whispered what comfort I could give in her ear. "It wasn't your fault. We don't know what happened yet, but I'm sure it wasn't your fault." She dry sobbed into my shoulder. I hated seeing her cry; I continued, "Alice is looking for her, it'll be alright."

As if my words had conjured her, my phone vibrated, and a quick look at the screen told me that it was Alice calling me. I answered the phone, and listened anxiously for the news with Esme's hand gripping mine tightly.


	11. We Need a Plan

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does.

I had no idea what the heck I was doing. It was as if two different Bellas – one in my head, and one in my stomach – were shouting at me, demanding that I listen and obey. The Bella in my head – sane, rational Bella – screamed at me to step away from the smiling man with the McDonalds bag, and to go home. The Bella in my stomach – starving, desperate Bella – told me that I should snatch the bag away from him and scarf down its contents before the man could change his mind about giving it to me. My stomach growled loudly, as if agreeing with starving, desperate Bella. The man heard it and his smile grew. "Yeah," he said. "I know how this must look. Some random guy offering a girl food. But it's not poisoned, or anything," he promised virtuously. "I just don't want to waste it."

_Oh, just do it! _Starving Bella ordered. _He just wants to help; is that so hard to believe? You are in no position to refuse help. Get over it, and TAKE THE BAG!_

_Have you completely lost your mind?! _Rational Bella retorted. _ He's probably a rapist trying to get a girl to come close! Leave, before he decides it's not worth his trouble to trick you, and just takes you!_

At first, the battle between the two voices was equal. But then, very gradually, starving Bella started to push rational Bella into the back corner of my mind. As she did, I started to move warily toward the man offering me food. I had reached out, and was about to take the bag, when someone grabbed the back of my jacket, and pulled hard, roughly jerking me away from the strange man. I staggered back with a yelp of surprise, and suddenly found my self behind a very petite, black haired girl.

She spoke to the man who had offered me food; actually, she shouted. "_GET BACK!!" _

My heart stopped, and my breath froze in my lungs. I knew that voice. I knew it like I knew my own name. Melodious – even though it was white-hot with fury and filled with a very obvious threat, other-worldly in it's beauty, and incredibly familiar. 

_Impossible,_ my mind cried. _How could she be here? She _can't_ be here!_ But there was no mistaking that voice.

Alice was crouched protectively in front of me; her shout was still ringing in the air. The man's face drained entirely of color, his eyes went round with terror. He stumbled back from brunt force of Alice's anger, his slack, horrified face pleading for mercy. I understood the instinctive, overwhelming fear that was inspired by an angry vampire. Even though Alice's anger was not directed at me, a shiver ran down my spine. For one moment. I thought she was going to kill the man. But my fears were for nothing. Alice straightened slowly from her crouch, and when she spoke again, it was in a normal volume.

"If you walk away _right now_, I might not come after you later." She told the cowering man. "That's a once in a life time offer. If I were you – thank God I'm not – I'd take it." She didn't need to tell him twice. He scampered out of the ally just as fast as he could. I was too numb with shock to be relieved.

She turned to face me. Her perfection stunned my eyes for a moment; I hadn't seen her in five months. Her eyes – too dark, she was thirsty – were blazing like black fire. "Bella," she began in clipped tones, "what did you think you were doing?" Her voice held barely restrained anger, but the beauty of it was still like a physical shock after months of hearing almost nothing but human voices. "Do you know how lucky you are that I was somewhat close to you?" She continued while I listened in stunned silence. "If I hadn't shown up -" Alice stopped abruptly, gritting her teeth. It was only then that I started to wonder about her reaction to the man who – or so it seemed to me – had been kind.

I managed to whisper a question. "That man...was he going to hurt me?" That was the only reasonable explanation I could think of.

Alice's face softened. She pulled me into a tight hug before she answered. "Yes. Oh, Bella, what were you thinking?"

I felt tears pooling in my eyes. I hugged her back fiercely. "I was thinking that I was hungry," I whispered. Then I lost it. I sobbed into her shoulder until I ran out of tears. Alice was very patient with me. She held me and murmured soothing words until I stopped crying. When I finally did, I pulled back slightly and gave her a wobbly smile. "I missed you." I told her. I had missed her like nobody's business.

Alice laughed freely. "I missed you, too," she replied, and gave me another quick hug. She seemed to remember something. "Hang on a sec," she told me. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and swiftly dialed a number. "I have to call Carlisle," she explained. Carlisle answered his phone. "I found her," Alice said immediately. "She's alright." She listened for a moment, then said, "No, not right away. I'd like to hear the story first." My stomach dropped. Alice wanted to hear my story. After Victoria had found me, I had tried to avoid re-living what had happened. I didn't know if I could handle telling the story. Alice said a quick goodbye to Carlisle and hung up.

She pulled me over to the steps of a nearby building and sat down. I – dreading what was about to happen – sat down beside her. She didn't say anything for a little while. When she did speak, her voice was weary, and she didn't look at me. "I'm sure you heard what I said to Carlisle. You know what I want to know, but let me ask a question first." She met my eyes. "How could you do this to Charlie? I know he's worried sick about you, and so do you. _Why?_" Alice looked so confused.

I felt the anguish – and guilt – rise up in me, but I was resigned to it. I almost welcomed it; it was what I deserved. That was why I was able to keep from crying – barely. I looked away from Alice and stared numbly at the ground as I answered her. "Charlie's dead. Renee and Phil, too." Just like that. Blunt and straightforward. During my time in New York, I had wearily accepted the fact, even though it still made me miserable. I knew that they were dead, and that they weren't coming back.

A look of horrified shock crossed over Alice's face; she had liked Charlie and Renee. She embraced me tightly. "I'm so sorry, Bella," she said softly.

My throat and eyes burned with held back tears. "Me too," I replied. Then I told her the story. I told her everything from when Victoria had first found me in the woods in Forks, up to when Victoria had found me in New York City. I didn't tell her about the most recent hurt.

Alice stared at me for about half a second, then she was on her feet, and was pulling me up with her. "I'm getting you out of here," she muttered. "I'm taking you somewhere safe, and then I'm going to talk to the family about Victoria." Her lips curled up over her teeth as she said the name.

Victoria's warning flashed through my mind. _Don't try to leave New York City._ I wouldn't have been worried about it if I had thought that Victoria would have come after me. But she had found a different – and very effective – way of punishing me. Through other people. And though I was confident in the Cullen's ability to guard _me_, I knew that they could not guard the whole world. Victoria would find someone, somewhere, to use against me. I thought about more people being killed because of me, and balked. _No. Not another._ My mind – and spirit – flat out refused to let that happen again. I dug in my heels, and snarled, "_No._"

Alice stopped and turned to me, her face shocked. "No?" she echoed, stunned. "Are you crazy? You _want_ to stay here? Out of the question! I'm not going to let you stay! Have you forgotten that Victoria is here, and is going to kill you?! Are you _suicidal?!_" Her face wasn't stunned anymore. It was livid.

I shook my head. "She told me to stay here. If I leave..." I trailed off, and shuddered. "the consequences will be severe." I could see obituaries and funerals in my mind's eye. I shuddered again. I would do everything in my power to keep that from happening.

Alice looked like she was about to explode. "_THE CONSEQUENCES WILL BE SEVERE IF YOU_ STAY, _TOO!!_" She shook her head sharply. "You're crazy. I don't care what you say. I'll _drag _you out of here!"

The blood drained from my face. I could feel myself start to hyperventilate. "No, Alice," I whispered, begging. If she used force, then there would be no way to stop her. "Listen. _Please_. Charlie, Renee, Phil... their deaths are all my fault." Someone else's was, too. I reached into my pocket and took out a month-old newspaper clipping. It was from the Deaths section. I pressed it into her hand. Her quick eyes found the name easily.

"Hal Turner," she murmured, frowning. "Who was Hal Turner?"

I didn't even try to hold back my tears. This wound was too fresh. "He was my friend. He gave me a job when I first came to the city. When Victoria found me here, she threatened him, and made him sever all contact with me. She said that if he did that, she would let him live." I covered my face with shaking hands. "She lied," I whispered through them. I looked up at Alice again. "That's four people. All of them died because of me. _I can't stand it if someone else does!_ If I leave the city, Victoria will be furious. She won't try to_ hurt_ me_,_ but she _will_ get back at me. She'll make me regret breaking the rules."

Alice frowned impatiently. "She wouldn't risk revealing herself like that. She knows better."

I shook my head. "Maybe she did once, but she doesn't care now. After James died, she totally lost it. She's insane. She'll do anything to make me suffer, no matter what the risk is. That's my point – she knows that what will make me suffer the most is knowing that people died because of me." A hard lump formed in my throat. "I have four people's blood on my hands, Alice. If that number goes up to five, I won't be able to live with it." I looked deep into her eyes, letting her see just how serious I was. "You know me. You know I'm not lying."

Alice looked at me silently for what felt like an eternity with a blank face. Then – after she had finished deliberating – she said, very simply, "Fine."

I sagged with relief, which disappeared when Alice said, "I'll make sure you get home safely."

"No," I was firm. "Victoria watches me. If she sees you with me, she'll know the game is over, but she won't want to go down without a fight. She'll attack you, right in the middle of the street."

Alice's face darkened; she wanted to refuse, but the logic behind my words was undeniable. "_Fine_," she said again. This time it was almost a hiss. "But I _am_ going to talk to my family, and once we come up with a plan, you _will_ go along with it." Her tone allowed no argument, so I just nodded mutely. Alice hugged me one more time, then said, "Remember to wash your clothes and to take a shower – get rid of my scent." I hadn't thought of that. I found myself unable to speak – I could sense a goodbye coming – so I just nodded. Suddenly, I thought, _What if they leave me again? _It was an irrational fear, but I couldn't shake it.

Alice saw the feelings on my readable face. "We won't ever abandon you again, Bella," she said somberly. "I promise."

Deep in the core of my being, I knew that she was telling the truth. My tight muscles relaxed as that fear was put to rest. "Thank you," I told her, letting the full extent of my gratitude seep into my words.

She laughed her tinkly laugh, and kissed me on the cheek. Then she turned and walked away. At the street corner, she turned and waved. I waved back, and she vanished around the corner. I heard a car engine start and speed away, then there was silence. I sighed deeply, and started walking home. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful.

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I'm back, and my computer's fixed! Sorry it took so long. Just a little incentive to keep on reading: In the next chapter, Alice tells Edward about the whole situation. Who wants to see how he reacts?**


	12. I'm Coming

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I wish I did, but I don't. You all know who does.

Alice's Point of View

As I sped away from the alley where Bella was, I pulled out my cell phone. I had to really try to not break it – I was more than a little mad about what I was doing. A part of me wanted to go back, grab Bella, throw her – kicking and screaming, no doubt; she didn't want to leave – into the car, and get her as far away from Victoria as possible. To heck with the repercussions.

But I had seen what Charlie, Renee, and Phil's deaths had done to her. I had taken one look at her eyes, and had known that if one more person died she would break – both her mind and her soul. I could not force that upon her. And _ I_ didn't want anyone to die, either. _I_ would have felt guilty, too. So I left her, until my family and I could figure something – I had no idea what – out.

I dialed the number, and steeled myself for his reaction. It would not be pleasant – in fact, if there had been time, I would have let Carlisle deal with it. But there wasn't time. This was a very important phone call. I just hoped that I wouldn't yell too badly at Edward; I was partially blaming him for the whole thing.

Edward's Point of View

The Brazilian city around me teemed with life. I was right in the middle of Rio de Janeiro's largest ghetto, in an abandoned building. I sat in a corner, with my head leaning against the wall, and tried not to think. My eyes were closed; I let the sounds and thoughts of the people around me blur into a mind-numbing roar. Numb was good – better than the pain that hovered on the edge of my thoughts. It was on the fringe of my thoughts for now, but soon enough it would come forward and consume me. It always did. And it was no less than I deserved. I was always haunted by what I had done to her. My Bella. I could still see her face, twisted in agony, when she realized that I was leaving her. That hurt badly enough. But it was her _ eyes_ that tortured me the most. Her _eyes_! Those beautiful, chocolate-brown eyes, filling with a never ending sea of heart break, desperation, and – worst of all – _resignation_. She had believed my lies so easily. Never had I imagined that I would be able to break her faith in me with so little effort.

The only reason I had been able to follow through with my plan, was because my leaving was best for her. That was the only thing that kept me from running back to her as fast as I could, and begging for her forgiveness. Begging for her to take me back. _ She's better off without me. She's better off without me,_ I told myself, over and over.

That's what I was thinking when my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I had kept it with me only at Esme's insistence. "How else will we contact you if we need to?" she'd asked me. I didn't tell her what I was thinking, that maybe it was best for them not to contact me at all, and I took the phone with me to pacify her. I pulled the phone out of my pocket, and glanced at the caller ID. _Alice_, I thought, surprised. Alice had been angry with me for leaving Bella, especially since she still saw Bella becoming one of us. To Alice, my leaving was just as stupid as it was pointless. For her to call me, it must have been serious.

I answered warily, not knowing what to expect. "Hello, Alice."

"Edward," Alice's voice was almost a growl. "You will be in New York City within forty-eight hours."

_What?_ I didn't say it out loud, but I was definitely thinking it. Alice wasn't usually this pushy. "Why do I need to be in New York City?" I asked. Her sudden demand made no sense.

"Because you are the worst tracker in the entire history of vampires? Because I'm tired of you hiding away in your masochistic corner? _Because I'm tired of you putting Bella in danger with your self-righteous ideas about what's best for her?!_ Do any of those reasons count, dear brother of mine?"

I was on my feet before she finished. Alice had said the words _Bella_ and _danger_ together in the same sentence. Those words cut through the fog in my mind like a knife. My mind – and my plan of action – were clearer than than they had been in five months. Pain was forgotten. There was only one thing I was thinking about: _Protect Bella_. _God have mercy on whoever it is that's put her in dang_er _this time. I won't_. But I couldn't just run off; I needed information. "What do you know, Alice?" My voice was even and calm – much calmer than I really felt.

Alice seemed to have gotten over her anger at me. "Victoria was James' mate. When she found out he was dead, she – obviously – wanted revenge. But rather than go after you, she decided that it would be fairer to go after Bella. Mate for mate. Bella tried to follow you after you left -" I winced - "and Victoria found her in the woods. She realized that we were gone, but that only made her shift her anger onto Bella. That night, Victoria killed Charlie, and almost burned the house down around Bella. Sam Uley got her out, though. Victoria killed Renee and Phil three days later, and told Bella to get out of Forks. Apparently, the werewolves were making it hard to move around. Victoria told Bella that if she left, she wouldn't hurt anyone else in Forks." I groaned. I knew that Bella had obeyed. She would do anything to keep the people she cared about safe. "Yeah," Alice continued dryly. "Needless to say, that tactic worked. Bella jumped on the first flight out of Seattle, which happened to be to New York City. Victoria lost Bella's trail there for about three months. When she caught up with Bella, she threatened her boss until he fired her, then killed him. He was Bella's friend. Bella has an apartment in the East side," Alice ignored me when I snarled. I didn't like the idea of Bella living in that part of the city. "And Victoria's made sure that she can't get a job."

The fist that wasn't holding the phone was clenched; my eyes were narrowed, my teeth were clenched, and my lips were curled up over them in a silent snarl. Then I suddenly wondered how Alice knew all of this. The werewolves might have told her about Charlie, Renee, and Phil dying, but what about the rest? "Alice," I asked, unclenching my teeth, "How did you get all of that information?" Suspicion stirred in my stomach.

Alice sighed deeply. "Bella told me," she said.

I frowned. "She called you?"

"No, she told me in person."

Relief washed over me, made me relax. Bella was with Alice. She was safe. "She's with you? Oh, good! At first I thought that she was still out there with Victoria hunting her, but if she's with you... Where are you?"

Alice was silent for a moment. The suspicion returned, accompanied by worry. "Edward, try not to get mad, alright?" She sounded reluctant to say something, like she was afraid of my reaction. All sorts of things that would make her sound like that ran through my mind, terrifying me: Bella was hurt, Victoria was still alive – actually, I wouldn't have minded that – Bella had a boyfriend, she didn't want to see me – the last two hurt more than I had imagined they would. After all, I knew that Bella would move on eventually. That was why I had left in the first place.

Alice continued, "Edward... Bella's not with me."

It took me a couple of seconds to figure out what Alice had said, and when I did, I was even more confused. "I thought you said you talked to her face to face," I said.

"I did," Alice replied uneasily.

I was getting angry. "Then how can Bella not be with you?" My voice was hard, the word were clipped and terse. The truth never even occurred to me until Alice told me.

"Well... I left her there."

It took me about one microsecond to process her words. Then I exploded. "_YOU WHAT!?_" I roared into the phone. If Alice had been there, I might have killed her. "_YOU LEFT BELLA ALONE WITH VICTORIA HUNTING HER!?_" I whirled around and punched the wall. The brick gave way under my hand with a loud _BANG_, and the air filled with pulverized brick dust. "_I DON'T BELIEVE THIS!!_" I shouted at Alice. This was worse than when I had let Bella go to Phoenix when James was hunting her. At least then, Alice and Jasper had been there! But now, Bella was entirely alone and unprotected. And I couldn't have been more furious about it.

Alice didn't appreciate my tone with her. "Not willingly!" she shouted right back at me.

I laughed once derisively. "What? Did Bella force you to leave her there? Did she threaten you?" As I spoke, I rushed around my temporary home, and grabbed the few belongings I had with me. I stuffed them into my small bag, and started for the door.

Alice's reply was soft and sad. "She didn't need to. Edward, Victoria doesn't hurt Bella – at least, not physically. She hurts other people, and tells Bella that it's her fault. Bella believes it. She told me that if I took her away, Victoria would go ballistic, and go on a killing spree. Edward, Bella's already being eaten away from the inside out over what happened to Charlie, Renee, Phil, and her boss. She wouldn't be able to handle another life added to the tally. That's why I left her. I didn't want to, but unless Victoria gets suspicious, we still have time to figure out a plan."

My anger slowly faded as Alice spoke, and was replace by a fierce ache in my chest. A heart doesn't need to beat in order to break. _Oh, Bella, what did I do to you? What did I do?_ I thought. I took a deep breath, and told Alice, "I'm on my way."

"I know," she replied. Then, out of the blue, she said, "Bella still loves you, you know."

I closed my eyes briefly. I wanted that to be true with all of my heart. "I hope so," I whispered.

"She does," Alice assured my confidently. "When you get here, you'll see." Then she hung up.

I ran out into Brazil's busy streets, heading for the airport. _Please, _I prayed, _Please let her be alright. Let me apologize. Let her love me. _Between thoughts like these and thoughts about how I was going to kill Victoria, I made it to the airport in what seemed like no time.

Luck was with me. When I got to the airport, a flight to Tampa, Florida, was about to take off. I bought my ticket and got on the plane just in time. I maneuvered my way down the aisle to my seat.

When I got there, I very nearly groaned out loud. In the seat next to mine sat a tall, athletic looking blond woman. She was – by human standards – attractive, and I could tell by her posture and thoughts that she was well aware of that fact. Her eyes zeroed in on me, and immediately, she started thinking things that were sure to make this flight awkward. As I sat down, I hoped that she wouldn't act on her thoughts. I didn't have the patience to deal with it, and I _was_ in love with the most incredible girl on planet Earth.

My hopes were in vain. The second I sat down, she angeled her body toward me and introduced herself with a flirtatious smile. "Hi. I'm Amy."

_Patience_, I told myself. _Calm. Don't take your anger out on her_. I managed a strained smile. "It's nice to meet you," I told her. I didn't tell her my name because I hoped it would discourage her. I was wrong again.

"What's your name?" Amy asked. She openly appraised me, thinking about "delicious" I was. I have gone through eighty years of women ogling at me – it never gets any easier.

I kept my answer short and curt. "Edward." I turned away from her – thank goodness I had the window seat – and looked out the window, trying to help her get the message that I wasn't interested.

Finally, Amy understood what I was telling her. She turned away from me with a huff, and thought, _Ugh. Chivalry is so dead._ I repressed a smirk. I doubted that Amy would recognize what chivalry was, even if it opened the door for her and said, "Ladies first". My smirk faded as I thought again about the danger Bella was in. I laid my hand against the glass of the window. _I'm coming_, I promised Bella silently. _I'm coming_.


	13. Worst Fears

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer still does. You probably shouldn't expect that to change anytime soon.

Bella's Point of View

I listened until I couldn't hear the roar of Alice's car's engine anymore, then I sighed and started to trudge home. Not that I really considered my apartment "home"; it was just a place where I lived. Home was still in Forks, and even then, it wasn't home without the Cullens. Especially without Edward. I flinched, and tried to think about less painful things. Things that didn't open up that great, gaping hole in my chest. But I couldn't help but wonder what Edward would do when Alice told him about Victoria. If she told him, that is. For one, blissful moment, I imagined him coming back and saving me again. I pushed the thought away before I could get my hopes up. It was stupid to imagine that Edward would come running, and, even if he did, it would only be to get me out of trouble. He would leave again as soon as I was safe.

I reached my apartment building and wearily started to climb the stairs to my room. I was exhausted, and I needed to wash Alice's scent off of me. Someone called my name, pulling me from my train of thought.

I turned to face the voice, and, when I saw who it was, groaned softly. It was my landlord, Albert Watson. He was short, fat, and balding. His thin brown hair had vanished completely from the top of his head. He frowned at me. "Miss Swan, I need your rent. You haven't paid in two months. If you miss this months payment, too, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Mr. Watson, I'm trying to pull some money together. If you'll give me a little more time, I'm sure I can -"

Mr. Watson cut me off. "I've been very patient, Miss Swan. If you don't have next months rent, I will evict you. I'm sorry, but that's that."

He turned around and walked back into his tiny office. I stayed rooted in place, trying not to have a emotional breakdown right there. Victoria had made the last two months very hard for me, but I had always been able to keep my apartment. But Mr. Watson was right – I didn't have the money to pay my rent. Victoria had made sure of that. And if I didn't come by some cash soon, I would be out on the streets. For the second time that day, Victoria's words rang in my mind. _I think I'd like to see you after you've gone without food for two weeks. After you've lived on the street. I want you to know what it feels like to know that you can't get a job – I want you to run out of hope._

Well, I knew what it felt like to go hungry. I knew what it felt like to not be able to get a job. If I didn't get money, I would be on the streets. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I _was_ running out of hope. It was happening slowly, and I fought it every step of the way, but I was losing my will to live. At least, I _had_ been, until Alice showed up. Her timely arrival and promise of help had awakened my determination. I found strength I didn't know I had. The end was in sight. But that knowledge was accompanied by the knowledge that someone could get hurt when it all went down. True, Victoria was insane, but she was still deadly. How many people would she hurt when she realized that the game was up? More importantly, _who_ would she hurt? Would it be Alice, who was so small? Would it be Emmett, who wasn't afraid of anything? Would it be gentle Esme, or Carlisle? Or would it be some innocent bystander?

It was with that frame of mind that I took a quick but thorough shower, and took my clothes down to my building's laundry room. I put my change into the slot, put my clothes and the detergent in, pushed the start button, and sat down in one of the chairs along the wall. I leaned back, and tried to imagine what I would do once Victoria was dead. Would I go back to Forks? Would I stay in New York City? Would I finish my high school education and try to go to college? I had no clue. _ Just focus on getting out of this mess alive. Then you can decide what to do next_, I told myself after thinking about it for a long time and still coming up empty.

The washer buzzed. I had been very deep in thought; the noise startled me. I put my wet clothes in the dryer, surprised that I had been thinking about my life after Victoria for so long. I almost fell asleep while my clothes were drying, but I managed to stay awake. Barely. When the clothes were _finally_ dry, I somehow managed to climb the stairs and open my door. When I did, I dropped my clothes on the floor, and fell onto my bed. As I settled in, trying to get comfortable, I happened to glance at my clock. I noticed with some surprise that it was only eight o'clock in the evening. My last thought was, _ How can I be this tired so early?_ Then I blacked out. The dream I had brought some of my fears to light.

_It was nighttime in New York City. The street lamps illuminated sections of the road, but large spaces were cloaked in shadow. I was standing across the street from my apartment building. I could see two white blurs moving with incredible speed in the darkness of the shadows. But I couldn't see who they were. I moved closer for a better look, fighting the irrational terror I felt. I crossed the street, and stepped into the pool of shadows. I could see a little better, but not much. I saw that one of the rapidly moving white blurs was much taller that the other, and that it was topped with a fiery-red nimbus of hair. The other, smaller blur had black hair. I squinted, trying to see their faces, but they were moving too fast. Then suddenly, they stopped moving, and faced off against each other. I almost screamed. It was Alice and Victoria. Victoria's face was grim, her eyes were lit with a maniacal light that was frightening to look at. She was crouched low as she looked for an opening, her posture filled with grim purpose. Alice's face was whiter than usual, her eyes were wide, and lit only with fear. She glanced at me, and whispered "Help me, Bella." Vitoria's eyes flashed with triumph as she noticed Alice's distraction. She grinned broadly, and started to move forward to deliver the killing blow. Alice's head whipped around to face Victoria again, and tried to move, but there wasn't enough time. Just as Victoria's teeth touched Alice's neck, Alice changed. She grew taller, broader. Her hair changed from inky black to bronze, and her face changed into one I loved more anything else. Edward's eyes met mine for just a fraction of a second. _

Then I woke up, with a scream building in my throat. My hands were clenched so tightly, that I had to loosen them slowly, finger by finger. The muscles in my hands cramped. When I finally relaxed my rigid muscles, I started to cry. At least I had woken up before Victoria's teeth had cut Edward's perfect skin. I could not have endured that. But to see the fear on Alice's and Edward's faces – even if they would not have been afraid in reality – was bad enough.

So I cried. I cried because I knew that I – a weak human – would not be able to help the Cullens – or anyone – in the coming battle. Every suppressed emotion came flooding to the surface, but, though it was unpleasant, by the time I was finished, I felt better. I looked at the clock again. The previous night I had gone to sleep at eight o'clock. It was now six twenty-seven in the evening. And it was not the same evening, either. _Wow,_ said a shocked voice in my mind. _I slept for twenty-two hours!?_ _You haven't been sleeping well._ I told myself. _And all the emotional stress didn't help either. _

That's what I was thinking when someone kicked my door in.

Edward's Point of View

The next day was torture. Pure torture. If I never have another day like that, I will be extremely happy. While on the flight to Florida, the plane developed engine problems. There I was, on my way to save the love of my life, and the plane developed engine problems! We had to stop in Venezuela and wait until the mechanics fixed it, because there wasn't another plane available to take us the rest of the way! I considered two courses of action. I almost shoved the stupid mechanic out of the way and fixed the plane myself. Then I thought about just swimming over the Atlantic Ocean, and getting to New York that way. But Alice saw what I was planning, and convinced me – somehow – to just wait for the plane. It was not easy. I paced the entire time, and I'm pretty sure that a muscle was jumping in my jaw. All I know is that the other passengers wisely stayed away from me. I don't think I could have dealt with any annoyances. It took _eight_ hours to get that plane back in flying condition. _EIGHT!!_

I passed the time by thinking about what I was going to say to Bella. About how I was going to make up for leaving her. I supposed I could start by never leaving her again. That is, if she even wanted me to stay in the first place.

When the plane finally took off from the Caracas airport, I found myself becoming even more impatient. I had already wasted enough time – couldn't this plane fly faster? When I arrived in Florida, I discovered that the next flight to New York City left in forty-five minutes. I almost snapped and shouted at the timid-looking woman behind the desk. I was only able to restrain myself by reminding myself that the flight times were not her fault, and by thinking that Bella would have gotten angry at me for yelling. I thanked the woman for her time – my voice was strained – and tried to smile. It probably came out as a grimace. I bought my ticket, and sat down in one of the chairs at the departure gate, even though I still had about half an hour until the plane took off. I waited, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, and trying not to think about what would happen if I got to New York too late.

The flight seemed to last for eternity and a day. When the plane landed, I rushed down the aisle, pushing past several disgruntled travelers as I did. I had carried my small bag with me on the flight, so I didn't need to pick anything up. I was walking – almost jogging – through the airport lobby when my cell phone vibrated. I glanced at the caller ID – Alice again – and answered it. As soon as I flipped the small cell phone open, Alice's voice – shrill with panic – screamed in my ear. "_Victoria has Bella!! VICTORIA HAS BELLA!!_" I stood stock-still for a moment. My eyes widened, my mouth opened in a silent cry of horror. _Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, OH NO! _

_"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" _Alice shouted. "_They're at Brooklyn Bridge! MOVE!!_"

She didn't need to tell me twice. I was running as fast as I could as soon as her words snapped me out of my shocked and horrified trance. The shock was replaced with a blistering rage – how _dare_ she touch my Bella! And a fierce desperation – please let me get there on time. I couldn't even _begin_ to think about what would happen if I was too late. If Bella – I shuddered – died, then I would soon follow after. I _would not_ live in a world that didn't have her in it. _Hold on, Bella_, I pleaded as I ran through the city, too fast for human eyes to see. _Hold on_.


	14. Home

Disclaimer: Still don't own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer still does.

Bella's Point of View

My door _shattered_. Shattered like glass. Wood splinters shot into my room like tiny missiles. I screamed, and instinctively threw my arms up to protect my face, screwing my eyes shut. Someone grabbed my by my upper arms, and hauled me to my feet. I opened my eyes in shock, and gasped at what I saw. It was Victoria, but she was different. She still _looked _the same, but I had never seen her look so deranged. That's when I knew – I just knew – that she had found out that the Cullens were close by.

Sure enough, Victoria glared at me with wide, wild eyes, and screamed "_DID YOU KNOW!?_" Her screams hurt my ears, they were so loud. I was still stunned by her sudden appearance – the only answers I could give were meaningless stammers. That wasn't good enough. Victoria shook me so hard that my teeth banged together and my neck popped. When she stopped, it was only to scream at me some more. "_DID YOU KNOW THAT THE CULLENS ARE HERE!?_"

She didn't wait for an answer. She just picked me up and ran out of my apartment at full speed. Terror rose up in my throat and choked me. Even if I _had_ been able to scream for help, what good would it have done? The Cullens weren't there, and a human wouldn't have lasted one second against Victoria.

I knew what she was going to do. Since the Cullens were about to stop the game anyway, she decided to finish it on her terms, which meant that she was going to kill me. The only thing I didn't know was _how_ she was going to kill me. I figured that with the Cullens so close, she was going to have to make it quick. I took a small amount of comfort in that.

I couldn't see where we were going while Victoria was running; her speed made it impossible to tell. And when she _did _stop, I had to let my eyes adjust to the semi-darkness of twilight. When I could see again, I realized that Victoria was clinging to the underside of some kind of structure. I looked to my left and right, and saw that the structure was very long. I looked down, and saw that we were over a river. Victoria saw what I was looking at, and grinned. "We're under the Brooklyn Bridge," she told me.

_Brooklyn Bridge?_ I thought, puzzled. _Why did she bring me here?_

Victoria answered me, in a round-about way. She started muttering to herself, with a crazed gleam in her eye. "When they find her, they'll think she jumped. Yes, let them think that she died because of them. And I'll be far away, they'll never know what happened."

My eyes widened in shock. Victoria was going to drop me into the East River! I didn't bother to tell her that the Cullens would never believe that I jumped – that they would find her scent in my apartment, and follow our scents to the bridge. Victoria's fragile sanity had finally snapped – she would not listen to reason now.

But instead of dropping me, she tightened her arms around me. "I'm not going to just drop you – do you think I'd risk you swimming away? No, I'm going with you. I want to feel you thrash," she told me. The mad light in her eyes grew, her face lit up with a macabre glee. It was sickening to look at.

Before I could respond, she let go of the bridge. We fell, our combined weights making us fall faster. I drew in a deep breath and held it, and started struggling. I wasn't going down without a fight. Victoria, on the other hand, laughed – like we were on a roller coaster – until we hit the water.

The impact was bone-shaking. It _hurt!_ It knocked the breath out of me – stunned me. As we sank further down, all light disappeared, leaving me totally blind. After a couple of seconds, I became aware of how cold the water was. But the cold _did_ bring me to my senses. I started to struggle again.

Then the most surprising thing happened. Victoria let go of me! I kicked franticly, trying to reach air. But just when I was about to break the surface, Victoria seized my right ankle and started to drag me back down into the blackness. I could feel her shaking with laughter. She had just been toying with me – letting me get just so far, then reminding me that my progress didn't matter. She was in control.

But I still tried. I reached upward with both hands, and kicked with my left leg. When that didn't work, I bent down in the dark water, an tried to remove Victoria's hand. I pulled at it, clawed at it, and kicked her with my free leg. Nothing worked. I could feel my lungs burning for air, feel the blood pounding in my head. I could feel myself growing weak, but still I struggled. I would have fought, quite literally, to the death.

I _would_ have, but all of the sudden, I was jerked violently to the side. Then a pair of stone arms was around me again, but _this_ time, they were towing me toward the surface.

Edward's Point of View

I ran like I've never run before. I'm sure I would have been quite a sight, if anyone could have seen me – jumping over cars, weaving through traffic, and dodging pedestrians. In my impatience, I started searching for Victoria's thoughts long before I was in range.

When I _could_ hear them, I grimaced in brief distaste – I don't like reading the minds of people who are really, truly insane. Then I was listening closely, listening for anything of importance. And I heard something of importance, all right. Victoria had Bella, but not on the Brooklyn Bridge like Alice had said. No, Victoria was drowning Bella in the East River _under_ the Brooklyn Bridge. Big, vital difference. I pushed myself faster, and found that I could go faster than I thought I could.

I reached the seaport on the edge of the river, and dove in. I followed Victoria's thoughts, gaining speed. I could see them now – could see Victoria, grinning like a maniac, holding Bella down by the ankle. I could see Bella, fighting Victoria's hold on her with all of her strength. I felt a rush of pride, watching Bella fight. In that moment, _stubborn_ seemed like a very beautiful word. And I felt an even more powerful rush of love for my beautiful, stubborn Bella.

Then my emotions turned to Victoria. Rage welled up – mighty, and demanding Victoria's death. I would supply it.

I had reached them by then. I plowed into Victoria with all the force I was capable off. Only afterward did I realize that I could have broken Bella's ankle with a foolish stunt like that if Victoria hadn't let go of it, but, as luck would have it, Victoria was surprised enough that she released her tight hold. For a moment, I was torn. A part of me wanted to finish Victoria off right then and there. But a much stronger part of me looked at Bella, and saw that she needed air – that she needed it _now_.

After I remembered that, I forgot Victoria. I would not save Bella from Victoria, and then let her drown anyway! I wrapped an arm around her waist – delighting in the feel of holding her again – and pulled her toward the surface. Bella instinctively reached upward, and started kicking, but I could see the weakness of her movements. I swam faster. _We're almost there,_ I told her silently. When we broke the surface, I felt an intense relief as Bella gasped and gulped air. I treaded water and held her as she lay limp – exhausted – in my arms. I was thrilled. Bella was alive, and I was holding her. I didn't know if she wanted me, but I was so happy pretending for a few precious seconds.

But Victoria would not let me have a single moment of peace. She did not swim up after us, but her thoughts shouted at me, _FINE!! Take her! You're only prolonging her life by a few minutes! She is MY kill! MINE! I'll tear you into pieces, and tell your little pet that it's her fault! Let her suffer like that before she dies! I don't care!_ _Have a nice reunion, but know this: I won't wait for long._ With that, she withdrew, though she continued to mutter softly.

Bella raised her head, and looked at my face, fear in her eyes. Anguish tore through me for a moment – I never wanted her to be afraid of me – but as soon as Bella saw me, the fear in her eyes vanished, and was replaced with shock, which changed quickly to awe. I was afraid to move, afraid to speak, because I feared that, if I did, she would scream at me, call me a monster, tell me to leave. It was what I deserved. But she didn't. Instead, she slowly raised her hand, and – just as slowly – extended it. Very softly, her fingertips brushed my cheek. The wondering look still in her eyes, she looked me right in the eyes, and breathed, "Edward?" The sound of my name leaving her lips broke my self-control, but in a good way.

I pulled her tightly to me and kissed her. Bella shivered lightly – in a good way – and kissed me back. The feeling of _her_, her body against mine, her lips against mine, made me feel _whole_, for the first time since I had told her goodbye. Nothing else mattered. Not Victoria, not anything. I was home. She fit perfectly against me, as if we had been custom-made to be together. The months of separation were forgotten. The lies I had told her when I left were forgotten. My lips moved with hers, asking silent questions, and she responded eagerly, answering every one. I _knew_ that she still loved me now, just as she knew that I would always love _her_. In that far-too-short moment, truths were told, wounds were healed, and all doubt was laid to rest. It was perfection.

But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. One minute, I was kissing Bella, and the next, Alice was there.

_There will be time for this _later,_ Edward!_ her thoughts cried. _Take care of Victoria. I'll get Bella out of here. _ I knew she was right, and I resented the knowledge. I pulled away from Bella unwillingly, and placed her in Alice's waiting hands. "I'll be back," I promised Bella softly, and I dove back under water. It was time to take care of Victoria once and for all.

Bella's Point of View

Edward promised me that he'd be back, and vanished under the water. _He's going to fight Victoria!_ I realized, with a surge of panic. _No!_ I had just then gotten him back. I could not loose him so quickly. Not like that. Victoria had taken away my family, my friend... would she take away my love, too? I tired to go after him, but Alice's arms held me tightly in an unbreakable hold. She started to tow me toward the shore. "_NO!_" I shouted. "Edward, _please!_" There was no response. I thrashed in my Alice's grip, desperation and fear giving me strength. "_Edward!_" I screamed. "_I CAN'T LOOSE YOU, TOO!!" _It was the truth. If he died, I would die. I would have screamed some more, but Alice's wintry hand came down over my mouth.

Alice pulled me ashore easily – my struggles meant nothing to a vampire. The rest of the Cullen family was convened on a deserted part of a seaport, but I was too frantic with worry to be happy at seeing the rest of my vampire family. I still tried to break out of Alice's hold, but it was impossible. She still had her hand over my mouth, even though I wasn't screaming anymore. It was just in case, she told me later.

I scanned the surface of the river anxiously. The smooth surface revealed nothing, which terrified me further. I was half aware of Jasper trying to calm me down with his unusual gift, but, for once, it was ineffective. The fight underwater was taking far too long for my taste. For one, awful second, I thought it was because Victoria had killed Edward and swam away. The pain of that horrible thought drove me to my knees. Alice had to hold me upright. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jasper double over, his face twisting in agony. A wail tore out of my mouth, muffled by Alice's hand.

But then, I saw someone break the surface of the water. A voice, low, but pitched tho carry across the water, called "I'm alright." I knew that voice. Edward was alive! I started fighting Alice's grip again, but this time, for an entirely different reason. Jasper straightened, his face relieved. Alice held me until Edward was on dry land, then she _finally_ let me go. I flew to Edward, and threw my arm around him, overjoyed. His arms encircled me, and lifted me off my feet. I heard him say something to Emmett, Jasper, and Carlisle. They nodded, and went into the water. But I didn't really care why. I was with Edward. Relieved tears started to course down my cheeks. I pulled back slightly, so I could look Edward in the eye, and said "If you _ever _do that again, you'll have me to deal with." I was half joking, and he knew it.

He smiled the crooked smile I love. "Then I shall avoid fighting insane vampires under the Brooklyn Bridge from now on," he replied lightly. I laid my head against his chest again, totally content.

Emmett, Jasper, and Carlisle swam over, their hands full with pieces of..._something_. I couldn't see what it was, because Edward turned me away from it. When I asked him about it, he sighed, and said, "Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow, love." I was so happy to hear him call me "love" again, that I let it go. I was also too _tired_ to press him.

Edward saw that, and quietly said something to Alice. She nodded and danced away. A few seconds later, a car pulled up, and Edward laid me gently in the back seat. He climbed in after me, and pulled me onto his lap. He was as loathe to be away from me as I was to be away from him. Rosalie sat in the front passenger's seat, and Esme climbed in the back with me and Edward. Something occurred to me through my drowsiness. "What about Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett? Aren't they coming?"

Edward stroked my wet hair. "They brought another car. They're following us home. You don't have to worry about anything, Bella." He lowered his lips to my ear. "You just sleep," he whispered, almost crooned. His voice was so beautiful, I found myself obeying. "Just sleep," he repeated. Then he started humming my lullaby. The months had not made me immune to the song; I fell asleep in Edward's arms quickly, and slept deeply and dreamlessly.


	15. Starting Over

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer still does, yeah yeah yeah. You know the drill.

Bella's Point of View

I woke up in an unfamiliar room. The walls and carpet were white, and the furniture looked like something out of an interior design magazine. I sat up, disoriented and alarmed. Where was I? Then the events of the previous night came to my memory. The near drowning, Edward fighting Victoria... Edward kissing me. Edward telling me that we were going to his home.

A soft voice spoke to my left. "Bella?" I closed my eyes. It was _his_ voice. The bed shifted as he sat down beside me. A cold hand took mine. "Bella?" he repeated, worry leaking into his tone. "Are you alright?"

I whispered, "If I open my eyes, you'll vanish, or I'll wake up. Then I won't be with you anymore at _all_."

Edward took my other hand. "I promise you, that when you open your eyes, I will be here. You have my word." There was a short pause. Then I felt the bed shift again as he leaned closer. My heart sputtered at his closeness. "Bella," he breathed, and I felt his cool breath on my face. Just the smell made me relax. "Open your eyes."

Hesitantly, I opened my eyes by tiny degrees. True to his word, Edward was there. I lost myself in his ocher eyes, impossibly beautiful and deep. He smiled gently, and brushed my hair away from my face. But then he glanced down, and shook his head slightly, with a small bemused smile on his lips.

"What is it?" I asked. He glanced up at me from beneath his lashes.

"I'm just surprised," he replied. "Even after everything I've done, after all the ways I've hurt you, you still trust me." Edward cupped my cheek in his cold hand, and looked deep into my eyes. "_Why?_" he asked.

I placed my hand over his, holding his hand to my face. "Because I love you," I told him firmly.

Edward closed his eyes briefly. "You have no idea how much that means to me," he whispered. "Thank you." His eyes opened. "I love you, too, more than you can imagine."

I grinned. "I don't know about _that_," I teased. Then I sobered. He noticed.

"What's wrong," he asked anxiously, starting to stand up. "What can I do?"

I shook my head, and pulled him back down. "It's nothing," I soothed. "Never mind."

Edward sighed, but sat back down. "You're lying, Bella," he said disapprovingly. "I know you well enough. I can see it on your face." He took my hands again. "Won't you tell me?" He widened his eyes, and made his voice soft and pleading. I recognized his tactic for trying to get me to tell him something.

I sighed, giving in. "You won't like it," I warned. Not that he would care.

I was right – his gaze softened, and he murmured, "I still want to know."

I drew in a deep breath. I was about to move onto dangerous material. "I don't care that you left." He winced, and looked down. I continued, as gently as I could. "You're back now – that's what matters. But I..." I took another deep breath. "I would like to know _why_ you left in the first place."

Edward didn't look up. He was rigid, his hands were tense in mine. I pulled one of my hands free, placed it under his chin, and lifted his face so that he would look at me. His eyes were filled with fierce regret, guilt, and anguish. I laid my hand against his cheek. "It's okay," I told him gently. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I understand."

He shook his head sharply. "No, it's not okay. You of all people deserve to know why I did what I did." he was silent for a moment, then said, "I didn't want to – I thought it would kill me to leave. But you had been endangered so many times because of what I am! You would have left your family, your friends, your entire _world, _in order to be with me, and you would havedestroyed your soul in the process. I – I couldn't let that happen to you. So I left. But I did it to protect you. Never doubt that. Everything I said when I was telling you goodbye was a lie. _Everything_." He stared fiercely into my eyes. "My saying that I didn't want you was as far from the truth as possible." The pain filled his eyes again. "And yet, you believed me," he whispered. "After all the times I've told you I love you, you believed me." He shook his head again, slowly this time. "That was...excruciating." Edward pulled me to him, and wrapped his arms tightly around me. "The entire time I was gone, it was thinking of you, of how much better off you were supposed to be without me – that's the only thing that kept me away for so long. And I was wearing down, too." He pulled back, and took my hands again. My heart throbbed at this revelation – that he had left to _protect _me, not because he didn't want me. "Now," he said, "If you can, I would like you to tell me what happened after I left." I froze. Edward continued, "Alice told me the summarized version, but I want to know everything."

I looked down at our entwined hands, and, repressing a shudder, told him everything. I didn't edit. Tears flowed unchecked down my face, but I never stopped telling him what had happened. After I told him about Renee and Phil's deaths, I broke down and sobbed. Edward held me, and comforted me the best he could. "I couldn't save them," I choked out. "I tried, but I just couldn't." When I regained some control of myself, I continued my story, telling him about my and Victoria's bargain, and about my first three months in New York City. I told Edward about Mr. Turner, and about how he died.

When I finished, Edward crushed my softly against his chest, and told me, in a tone that allowed no argument, "None of this was your fault. _None_."

I nodded and sniffed. Edward wordlessly handed me a box of tissues. After I'd wiped my eyes and blown my nose, I said, "I just wish that I could have gone to their funerals." My voice shook and broke.

Edward squeezed me gently. "As much as I want to, I can't take you back in time to the funeral," he murmured. I ducked my head. "But," he continued, "I _can_ do the next-best thing."

Two days later, the Cullen family and I gathered in their family room, which had been altered to accommodate a memorial service for Charlie, Renee, Phil, and Mr. Turner. Alice had done a spectacular job of decorating the room – it was decorated in pure white and soft gold. Beautifully framed pictures of Charlie, Renee, Phil, and Mr. Turner were on a table covered with a white cloth, and were surrounded by lilies. Alice, Esme, Rosalie and I were dressed in modest black dresses that, despite their simple design, were very pretty. The Cullen males had on dark, somber suits. They looked like the world's most perfect funeral goers. Everyone said a few words about Charlie, Renee, Phil, and even Mr. Turner, whom they didn't know. I stared at the pictures and wept silently, with Edward's comforting arms around me. I concentrated on the feel of his arms. I would always feel the loss of my family and my friend, but, with Edward and the rest of the Cullens by my side, I could start to heal.

**A/N: The end. And that's all she wrote – for now, anyways. I hope you enjoyed reading it – I sure enjoyed writing it. **


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